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LANDS OF SCOTT. 



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P' 




THE 




anii0 of ^Kcott. 



BY 



JAMES F. HUNNEWELLo 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

m}t latbrrsttic IBtm, (Sirambritige 

1899 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED, 

LJorary of Con^r««i% 
Office of the 

Register of Copyrlghf«r 



49469 

Copyright, 1871 and 1899 
By J. F. HUNNEWELL. 

All rights reserved. 



SECOND QQPt, 






r 



PREFACE, 



OOME reason should, at least, be alleged for preparing 
another book about travel in Europe ; and to show a 
reason for this one the writer may be pardoned the rather 
simple statement that he has, as a reader or traveller, found 
assistance or interest in records made by persons who have 
visited places he has endeavored to know by sight or by 
description ; and that he has ventured to think he may, 
similarly, be of some service to others, by collecting scat- 
tered items of information that have enabled him to explore 
certain Old-World places where he has spent many pleas- 
ant days, and by adding to these items some account of 
what he has thus found. 

These places are united by associations in which the 
writer, during earlier life, became strongly interested. Like 
thousands of persons, he then read, enjoyed, and admired 
the compositions of Walter Scott ; and, like some such 
readers, he desired to see the objects and places with whicli 
those compositions are identified, or that once knew or 
influenced or inspired that great author. The writer has 
since been able to see, possibly, more of them than are 
usually seen by travellers. At various times he has visited 
— disconnectedly indeed — nearly all the objects and places 
tliat he proposes to describe. In order, however, to arrange 



VI PREFACE. 

and complete a plan for a single tour through a large and 
somewhat ideal division of earth containing them, he has 
added to his own account quoted remarks about several 
places, some of which he has not seen. 

Experience shows that travel-books with mistakes may 
be found, consequently the writer of this one does not flatter 
himself that he may not be among those who have failed to 
attain absolute truth, — a characteristic of travellers not 
always acknowledged by critics and sceptics. One who 
passes through a strange country, sometimes rapidly, receiv- 
ing statements from various persons, and liable to disadvan- 
tageous positions for observations, is quite likely to develop 
some of the imperfection attributed to human nature. And 
yet, however inadequately this book may present its subject, 
the writer believes that it contains an amount of relevant 
matter not hitherto gathered within a single volume. In 
addition to accounts of his own observations, are illustra- 
tive extracts from more than fifty works beside those of 
Scott, — some of the works scarce, and all in some degree 
serviceable, and forming a library of reference not com- 
monly portable, or indeed accessible. 

The writer feels that he may, not improperly, allude to his 
spelling of several geographical names, — chiefly Scottish. 
He has, in many instances, found the same word spelled in 
three or four ways by as many " authorities." A rule pro- 
pounded by a certain eminent master of composition appears 
to have prevailed in these instances ; and the writer, yield- 
ing to Welleristic example, may possibly be pardoned, if, 
in this important particular, he has depended too much on 
" taste and fancy." 

The Lands of Scott, with their variety of scenery and 
antiquities, their history and romance, certainly present 
attractions enough to reward a long tour, — as annual 
crowds of travellers on many routes in them demonstrate. 



PREFACE. vli 

While some of the places that are visited on these routes 
may be thought so generally familiar that nothing novel or 
useful can now be said about them, there are not a few 
to which such an estimate cannot properly apply ; for 
visits to every portion of his Lands lead to nearly all the 
shires of Scotland, through much of England, a part of 
Wales, the Isle of Man, France, Spain, Belgium, the valley 
of the upper Rhine, Switzerland, and even the far East. 

The writer, without attempting a general essay upon so 
great a subject as that expressed by the name of Sir Walter 
Scott, but feeling affection and gratitude for the pleasure 
and the profit he has conferred, proposes that this book 
shall contain sketches of the long and wonderfully varied 
series of his works ; of the not less remarkable story of his 
life, and of the places with which both works and life are 
associated. These sketches are necessarily so numerous 
that almost constant abridgment of extremely abundant and 
diversified materials has been found to be required, in order 
that this book should not become undesirably large. 

If in thus following this one (and rather personal) general 
subject, there appears to be any thing of what has, for want 
of another name, been called " Boswellism," this quality 
may explain and assert itself by suggesting an application 
of the old anecdote relating George II. 's reply to a remark 
charging General Wolfe with madness, — a reply that may 
be recalled though not expressed here ; and this application 
may signify that there is, at least, not only no harm in per- 
sonalities similar to those chiefly occupying these pages, 
but, also, no harm if they affect more than the writer and 
his subject. He simply hopes that he may furnish some 
help to others, enabling them to enjoy many pleasant things 
that he has enjoyed, and to do so without the trouble of col- 
lecting much, and quite scattered, information needed for 
the tour proposed ; that, indeed, he may be of some use to 



viii PREFACE. 

those who derive pleasure or satisfaction from Old-World 
stories and scenes, mediaeval art, aspects of former social 
life, healthy walks over green fields, or fresh heather, or 
breezy hills, and the real romance told by the life of a true- 
nearted man, — and that man one of the noblest in genius 
and spirit the world has known. 

J. F. H. 

Charlestown, March, 1871. 



Quotations from the works of Scott, and from Lockhart's " Life,' 
are made from the " Abbotsford " edition of the Novels, and from 
the uniform edition of the Poems, Prose Works, and Life published 
by Adam and Charles Black, Edinburgh. " Time of action " of 
the novels, and many other dates, are according to tbe same 
authorities. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapters Pages. 

Preface v-viii 

I., II. Introduction 11-13 

III. Birthplace and Early Life of Scott . 14-17 

IV. Lasswade, and Scott's Life, 1798-1805 . 17-19 
V. Excursion to Scenery of " The Lay of 

THE Last Minstrel" 19-34 

VI. " Marmion : A Tale of Flodden Field ;" 

Its Incidents and Scenery 34-53 

VII. " The Lady of the Lake " 53-75 

VIII. "The Vision of Don Roderick" .... IS-n 

IX. Scott's Life, 1804-1812 77-78 

X. Visit to the Scenery of " Rokeby " . . 78-86 
XI. " The Bridal of Triermain," and the 

Valley of Saint John, near Keswick. 86-101 

XII. Scott in 1814 101-102 

XIII. "The Lord of the Isles" 103-119 

XIV. " The Field of Waterloo," and Scott 

in 1815 120-121 

XV. "Harold the Dauntless" 121-133 

XVI. Retrospect of the Poems 133-134 

Wo^z Prose lElotnances. 

XVII. The Beginning of the Tour through 

the Lands of Scott 137-138 

XVIII. " Waverley ; or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since" 139-147 



CONTENTS. 



Chapters. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 



XXII. 
XXIII. 
XXIV. 



XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 
XXXIII. 
XXXIV. 



XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 



Pages. 

" Redgauntlet " {and the West Border) . 148-150 

"Guy Mannering" {and Galloway) . . 151-163 
" Rob Roy," Gilsland, the " Rob Roy 

Country," 164-187 

AND Scott's Glasgow 187 

"Old Mortality" {and Loch Skene) . 188-199 

" Castle Dangerous " 199-201 

"A Legend of Montrose" 202-213 

The Region of the Trosachs, and 203-207 

The West Coast 209-213 

"The Pirate," The Great Glen, and 213-228 

The Northern Coasts of Scotland 214-227 

" The Antiquary " 228-233 

" The Fair Maid of Perth " . . . . 233-244 

" The Abbot " {and Loch Leveft) . . . 245-254 

Scott's Edinburgh 255-265 

" The Heart of Midlothian "... 265-275 

Routes Southward from Edinhirgh . . 275 

" Saint Ronan's Well," and .... 276-279 

Ashiestiel 277-279 

" The Black Dwarf " 279-284 

The Midland Border 285-295 

" The Land of Scott " 296-322 

Melrose, 296-8 ; Ezldon Hill, 298-301 ; 
A bbotsford, 301-12; Sandy Knowe, 312; 
S?nailholm, ^i-^-iG ; Drybiirgh, 316-21. 

" The Monastery " 322-332 

" The Bride of Lammermoor "... 332-343 
From Scotland to England .... 343-346 
" IvANHOE " {and Central England) . . 347-362 
" Peveril of the Peak " {and Derby- 
shire) Z(i^-V^ 

" The Betrothed " {and the Welsh 

Border) 376-385 



CONTENTS. 



Chapters. Pages. 

XLI. _ " Kenilworth " {and Warwickshire) . . 385-403 

XLII. ^^Woo-DSTOCVi^^ {and Blenhei7n) .... 403-410 

XLI 1 1. "The Fortunes of Nigel," and. . . 410-420 

Scott's London 417-420 

XLIV. " Quentin Durward " {France and Bel- 

gi^i^n) 421-432 

XLV. "Anne of Geierstein" {Switzerland and 

the Rhine) 433-45 1 

XLVL ^'TYLE^TKiA^UKi^'' {The Holy Land) . . 452-455 
XLVIL "Count Robert of Paris" {and Constan- 
tinople) 455-460 

XLVin. The Six Lesser Tales 461-466 

" The Highland Widow,'' 461 ; " The 
Two Drovers,^'' 461 ; " The Surgeon'^s 
Daughter,'''' 463 ; " My Aunt Margaret's 
Mirror,'"' 464 ; " The Tapestried Cham- 
ber;' 465 ; " The Laird's Jock," 465. 

XLIX. Dramas and Ballads 466-475 

L. Scott's Life, 18 16-1832 476-483 

His Character. The End .... 483-490 

INDEX 492 



MAPS. 

— •— 

Page. 

Country between Stirling and Oban {contaming the 
scenery of " The Lady of the Lake,''^ " Legend of Mon- 
trose,^'' part of '•'■ Rob Roy, ^"^ etc) 212 

Eastern and Middle Border, from Berwick to Moffat- 
dale {containing scenery of " The Lay,^^ " The Monas- 
tery,'' and parts of " Mar7nion,^' " The Abbot,' " Black 
Dwarf'' " St. Ronar^s Well,'''' etc., and the vicittity of 
Melrose and Abbotsford) 336 

Great Britain from Moray Firth to York, with a 

clew of the Tour 352 

Portions of England {south of York) and Wales with 

clew of the Tour » 416 



y 



A TOUR 

THROUGH -THE LANDS OF SCOTT. 



I. 

Introduction. 



A T first, some may think that in this busy, "practical" age, a 
-^^- tour into the regions of Romance is not a wqrthy occupa- 
tion for those who share in the benefits and responsibilities of ex- 
isting civilization. Afterward, they may reflect that rather a large 
number of persons wish to be amused, and are endowed with im- 
agination, curiosity, and love of the beautiful, and inclination to use 
these qualities in obtaining pleasure from many objects and places, 
enriching earth with not a few of her truest charms. At some 
time, indeed, and in some manner, almost every one feels the fasci- 
nations of that World of the Past, animated by beings historical, 
legendary, or created by poets and romancers, — beings who, 
though unseen, yet active, will then make their existence felt, 
haunting some scene associated with a story of country, of familiar 
neighborhood, or, perhaps, become the home of creatures of mind 
or of fancy, now our near friends. Few of us, indeed, have not 
some time, in some place, experienced — thanks for growing civiliza- 
tion — the feeling expressed by Dr. Johnson in his introduction to 
the description of his visit to " that illustrious island" lona. 

" To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossi- 
ble if it were endeavored, and would be foolish if it were possible. 
Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever 
makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the 
present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from 
me, and from my friends, be such rigid philosophy as may conduct 
us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been digni- 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

fied by wisdom, bravery, or virtue." And when first treading the 
soil of 

That isle that is itself a world 

Where " glory with its dust has blended, 

And Britain keeps her noble dead, 

Till earth and seas and skies are rended," — 

that isle 

*' One half" whose " soil has walked the rest 
In poets, heroes, martyrs, sages" — 

how many — and Americans peculiarly — have felt these thoughts .• 
They, by lineage, by education, or disposition, of all people most 
allied to Old England, may, and do, among her nearly countless 
shrines of the World of the Past, affectionately and delightedly 
feel their fascinations, — and feel thus, perhaps, for the first time 
profoundly. There, indeed, Americans may feel a certain inherited 
ownership in places dreamed about during school-life, or thought 
about during readings in later years, — places in whose history their 
ancestors, possibly, held interest common with the ancestors of the 
people now occupying them, — places animated by creations of au- 
thors who have been and continue household companions, whose 
language renders those creations not foreigners, but kinsfolk and 
near friends. There, indeed, amid the busy occupations of an 
active, living people, Americans quite hkely, to a greater or less 
degree, first, if ever, become pilgrims of our every-day world among 
the shrines of the World of the Past, following towards Canter- 
bury Chaucer's " nine-and-twenty in a company of sundrie folk," 
or fingering beneath the limes and elms of Stratford churchyard, 
or in quiet haunts of Shakspeare's creations, or upon the charm- 
ing, heathery, birch-grown shores where one feels that Ellen Doug- 
las must have been. 

Washington Irving wrote : " To an American visiting Europe 
the long voyage he has to make is an excellent preparative. The 
temporary absence of worldly scenes and employments produces a 
state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and vivid impressions. 
The vast space of waters that separates the hemispheres is like a 
blank page in existence. There is no gradual transition by which, 
as in Europe, the features and population of one country blend 
almost imperceptibly with those of another. From the moment you 
lose sight of the land vou have left, all is vacancy until you step oc 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

the opposite shore, and are launched at once into the bustle and 
novelties of another world." 

Notwithstanding the quite evident fact that times and circum- 
stances have changed greatly since Washington Irving's voyage 
to Europe, yet conditions he described continue applicable to 
travellers after instruction or pleasure. Those who are not as good 
sailors as he is reported to have been, especially those who persist- 
ently reside in a " seven-by-two " berth during a whole Atlantic 
passage, cannot naturally be expected to believe their voyage "an 
excellent preparative" to any thing, — certainly to a "sentimental 
journey." Yet it is a departure from accustomed routine of life 
productive of "a state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and 
vivid impressions." And in this state we may suppose ourselves, 
mentally or bodily, to have reached Old England, and to finci that 
some confusion may beset travellers who arrive in a land crowded 
with scenes and objects of interest, and who have not formed a 
special plan of observation. A mode of avoiding this confusion 
may be suggested to others, as it was to the writer, by putting re- 
searches of the latter systematically together, and forming a tour 
that, in whole or in part, he hopes others may find as agreeable as 
he found it. And this is a tour that may be travelled over mentally, 
if not bodily, while one is reading astonishingly varied and extended 
pages of romance, around which lingers a spirit enchanting them 
even more fascinatingly than it enchants the long series of shrines 
and places ranged throughout the route of this tour, and that this 
spirit everywhere glorifies. 



II. 

TF we take Walter Scott — his still living power — to be a guide, 
-■• it will be found that he can lead through widely extended Old- 
World lands, — that he has made peculiarly his own, and that he 
still occupies, — and lead, as no other can, through what no other 
has so united in an 

" Attaching maze, — 
The brilliant, fair, and soft, — the glories of old days." 

And through these Lands of Scott we will endeavor to go. 



14 BIRTHPLACE AND EARLY LIFE OF SCOTT, 



III. 



Birthplace and Early Life of Scott. 

THE route of our tour appears to have a natural beginning at 
the place where our proposed guide first became known in 
bodily form, and that place is Edinburgh ; a city otherways rendered 
a very proper starting-point, not only because every one who 
travels in Great Britain is supposed to visit it, but because it is a 
place abounding in objects to arouse, to interest, to inspire those 
who iourney among Old-World scenes. It is a city with few rivals of 
its own characteristics and remarkable combinations, — one, indeed, 
of unusually varied picturesqueness and beauty, — a thoroughly 
storied city surrounded by a thoroughly storied country ; a place 
in which one can now see and feel, as in few others, the Present 
joined with the Past ; and this tour will necessarily lead to quite 
thorough exploration of it. Description of its rather well-known 
general natural formation and historical and architectural features 
m.ay be omitted now, while, in proper custom, preliminary research 
is being made about our guide, — where and when he came into 
existence, and how he grew and gained the power that attaches us 
to him. 

It must be confessed that the enthusiasm of a pilgrim to shrines 
of romance finds severe test in an excursion to the College Wynd, 
in the depths of the old town of Edinburgh, leading from the 
Cowgate upward behind the great college edifice. This wynd, or 
lane, is by no means lovely now ; or it was not when the writer saw 
it, for it was steep, narrow, dirty, and ill-smelling, and the houses 
along it were ordinary and dingy enough. Yet a hundred years 
ago it was respectable, — inhabited by professional gentlemen. 
Through it, then, was the main access to the college, the decorated 
gateway of which faced directly down it. By the side of this wynd, 
near the site of that gateway, in a house destroyed with others to 

Note. — The writer has been informed that great changes have been made in thi? 
place since he last saw it, — a remark that maybe applicable toothers described in the 
Tour. 



BIRTHPLACE AND EARLY LIFE OF SCOTT. 15 

make room for the present northern front of the college, we find, 
that, on the 15th of August, 1771, our guide came into this world, 
to rise, even from a spot now so forbidding, and grow into the won- 
derful power that he attained ; that there and then was born Walter 
Scott, whose creations and whose influences, expressed in verse 
and prose, have become (it is pardonable to repeat) inseparably and 
fascinatingly associated with such extent of scenes and compass of 
history and of romance, as are thus associated with no other one. 
Shakespeare or Byron or Southey may have written of more widely 
scattered places or have created scenes in them ; but neither of 
these — with all his power — or any other one of the masters of 
literary art, has invested with his own personality and creations 
niore objects, or won to himself a domain more thoroughly his own, 
than has Walter Scott. 

From that narrow wynd came the " Great Magician " to animate 
those enchanted lands, through which it is proposed that he, "but 
present still though now unseen," conduct us ; and since his name 
as guide has been already repeated, — indeed since it has once been 
mentioned, enough has been told of his ability to lead, to teach, 
and to please. 

After briefly recalling, as has been suggested, how and where he 
grew up, the writer proposes excursions to those scenes in his Lands, 
successively, associated with the stories of the great poems that he 
wrote, and then exploration, in more geographical order, of the 
wide-spread scenes associated with the more numerous prose ro- 
mances, — his later works; and that all the while there be ob- 
servation of whatever is found associated with the quite as noble 
and romantic story formed by his own life. 

Walter Scott had eaVly opportunity to see more of the world than 
appeared in his native wynd. When only eighteen months old, 
being ill, he was sent to live with his paternal grandfather at Sandy 
Knowe, a farm-house from which a long reach of the vale of lower 
Tweed is overlooked. In his fourth year, he was taken by London 
to Bath, where he lived nearly a year. After this, he was again at 
Edinburgh and Sandy Knowe. When about eight years old, he was 
some time at Prestonpans, and was already exploring historical or 
other scenes that afterwards appeared in his works. Thence he 
went to a new residence of his father, house No. 25, George's Square, 
Edinburgh, — in which his father hved many years, — and that con- 
tinued the " most estabhshed place of residence " of this son, until 



[6 IHRTHPLACE AND EARLY LIFE OF SCOTT. 

his marriage in 1797. During the earh'er portion, even of this boy- 
hood time, he was becoming acquainted with many old stories, and, 
during a school-life of three years succeeding, was learning very 
much of English literature and Border Ballads, and additionally, 
during the latter portion of this period, — influenced by the beauties 
of Tweed-dale at Kelso, where he spent several months, — he was 
experiencing, as he informs us, an awaking of a delightful feeling for 
the beauties of natural objects, which never afterward deserted him. 
In his fifteenth year he began that knowledge of the affairs of law, 
and of the active living world, which so much aided in his develop- 
ment, being then apprenticed to his father, a Writer to the Signet. 
Soon afterward he made his first excursion to the Highlands. Dur- 
ing four years, 1789 to 1792, he was studying for the bar, and with 
great ardor and perseverance, at the University of Edinburgh. 
Through all his boyhood and youth, he was reading immensely of 
whatever was adventurous or romantic or poetic in general litera- 
ture, — Itahan, German, French, as well as British. Meanwhile, 
also, he was both delighting and fashioning his already character- 
ized tastes, by visits, on foot or on horseback, to ruins, to castle- 
lialls, to battle-fields and famous landscapes, — loving most the 
places invested with historical and legendary associations. Thus 
he intimately learned the environs of his native, or, as he called it, 
"his own romantic town." 

Growing older, he became familiar with more distant scenes. In 
"'91," and again in " '92," he went to Northumberland and Flodden 
Field. In the latter year he for the first time made an excursion to 
Liddesdale ; and, as Mr. Lockhart pleasantly informs us, " during 
seven successive years Scott made a 7'aid, aS'he called it, into Lid- 
desdale, with Mr. Shortreed for his guide ; exploring every rivulet 
to its source, and every ruined peel from foundation to battlement. 
At this time no wheeled carriage had even been seen in the dis- 
trict — the first, indeed, that ever appeared there was a gig, driven 
by Scott himself for a part of his way, when on the last of these 
seven excursions. There was no inn nor public house of any kind 
in the whole valley ; the travellers passed from the shepherd's hut 
to the minister's manse, and again from the cheerful hospitality of 
the manse to the rough and jolly welcome of the homestead ; gath- 
ering, wherever they went, songs and tunes, and occasionally more 
tangible relics of antiquity — even such "a rowth of auld nick- 
nackets " as Burns ascribes to Captain Grose. To these rambles 



LASS WADE, 1798-1805. 1 7 

Scott owed much of the materials of his " Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border ; " and not less of that intimate acquaintance with the 
living manners of these unsophisticated regions, which constitutes 
the chief charm of one of the most charming of his prose works. 
But how soon he had any definite object before him in his re- 
searches seems very doubtful. " He was makm^ /izmsell a' the 
time," said Mr. Shortreed ; " but he didna ken maybe what he was 
about till years had passed. At first he thought o' little, I dare 
say, but the queerness and the fun." 

And thus, insensibly or sensibly, he " made himself." 

In 1796 his first book appeared, — a translation from the German 
of Burger, — a mere preliminary exercise. In "'97 " occurred his 
romantic introduction to Miss Carpenter at Gilsland, and their ac- 
quaintance and marriage, of which more hereafter. His residences 
during his early married life were at Edinburgh in George Street 
and in South Castle Street. There is not much that is noticeable 
in either of these places. 

During the summer of 1798 he hired Lasswade Cottage, in which 
he hved until he removed to Ashestiel in 1804. While his home 
was at Lasswade, he began his career in authorship and other 
Dublic life. 



IV. 

Lasswade, 1798- 1805. 

A N excursion to Lasswade and its neighborhood is one of the 
■^^^ most delightful of the many that can be made from Edinburgh, 
including as it may, in a day, a visit to the stately park and palace 
of the Duke of Buccleuch, at Dalkeith, a stroll of three or four 
miles along the picturesque Esk Vale, and explorations of Haw- 
thornden, — that exquisitely romantic spot where the poet Drum- 
mond Hved, — and of Roslin Castle and Chapel. This chapel is the 
well-known elaborated example of Spanish Gothic, unique in Scot- 
land, now " restored " and well kept. The castle, near by and 

2 



l8 LASS WADE, 1798-1805. 

quite ruinous, stands on a steep point at the end of a wild ravine, 
and closely over a bend of the dashing Esk. Its most remarkable 
characteristics are tiers of massive internal vaults, but nearly all its 
parts are capitally disposed for sketches. Both Castle and Chapel 
are scenes of Scott's ballad " Rosabelle " in " The Lay." 

Local guide-books and time-tables will tell the traveller how to 
reach the places visited during this excursion, and to similar pub- 
hcations reference is suggested for directions during most of the 
explorations that will be hereafter mentioned. 

Several years ago the writer found Lasswade village made up 
mostly of irregular, red- tiled cottages along steep, small streets. 
The house of Scott, secluded among trees and shrubbery, was well 
built of cut stone and covered by a deeply thatched roof. Its ground 
plan appeared shaped like an inverted letter q, and its height but a 
single story. The entrance was beneath a veranda at the inner 
angle. On the outer side was a large ivy-mantled chimney-shaft. 
The windows, also ivy-mantled, opened upon pleasant grounds. 
Although the house was a private residence, and the writer was a 
stranger, he was kindly shown the interior. The parlor — the 
chief room, perhaps twenty feet square — was as comfortable, social, 
home-like an apartment as one may find ; and the whole place was 
as peaceful, rural, and beautiful as a young poet would seek or find 
or enjoy. Here, as already stated, Scott began to live during the 
summer of 1798; here was the home of most of his earlier mar- 
ried life, and while here he really began his experience in author- 
ship. 

The next year, 1799, was an important year in his development. 
On the i6th of December he was appointed Sheriff" of Selkirk, and 
this office he held thirty-three years, until his death. Early in this 
year he published a translation of Goethe's tragedy " Goetz von 
Berlichingen," He also visited London with his wife, and exam- 
ined the antiquities of Westminster, and of the Tower and the 
British Museum. At about this time he was beginning to compose 
original ballads. The first of his metrical work was partially that 
in his drama " The House of Aspen," a sort of Teutonic compo- 
sition (one of the results of his German readings), written this 
year. More important, however, were his contributions to " Min- 
strelsy of the Scottish Border;" "Thomas the Rhymer" (a ballad- 
tale of the Rhymer's Glen near Abbotsford) ; and " Glenfinlas " (the 



''THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 1 9 

scene of which is that tract of wild heath and mountain bearing the 
same name, near the Trosachs in the Perthshire Highlands) ; and 
" The Eve of Saint John," a ballad telhng a story of Smaylho'me 
Tower, an old baronial keep near by his boyhood home, at Sandy 
Knowe. The scenery of these poems will be more fully described 
when the "tour" reaches them. In 1802-3 he published the col- 
lection of ballads, songs, and legendary poems that became so 
celebrated under the title already mentioned, " The Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border." In 1804 he published the metrical romance, 
" Sir Tristrem." At various times, at about this period, he com- 
posed a few short works like the " Fire King," But it was in 1805 
that his first great and really characterized composition appeared, 
"The Lay of the Last Minstrel." Then his power also began to 
appear ; power that may now be first realized (where it was first 
associated with Old- World places) during an excursion to the 
scenery of the poem, in that region so distinctively rendered by him 
his own, the Midland Border of Scotland. 



Excursion to Scenery of " The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel." 

'T^HIS scenery in the Midland Border of Scotland — a region 
■^ peculiarly romantic, where many enjoyable excursions may 
be made — can be pleasantly reached now by a railway ride occupy- 
ing less than two hours, from Edinburgh to Selkirk, and from that 
town by an easy and agreeable walk or drive of four or five miles 
up Yarrowdale to Newark Castle, to which, some time during the 
last decade of the seventeenth century, the "Latest Minstrel" is 
described wandering ; where he sang this " Lay " to Anne, Duchess 
of Buccleuch and Monmouth, who represented its ancient lords. 
A visit to this castle may also be made during the long tour that 
will be arranged hereafter, as shown in chapter xxxiii. 

Scott had already shown his ability to write attractively of the 
olden time, it is evident, from the manner in which this poem came 



20 ''THE LAI OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 

to be written. The Countess of Dalkeith, a lady beautiful and 
lovely as she was noble, in her earnest desire to learn the traditions, 
the manners, and the history of this large and interesting Border 
region, — much of which is held by the great family of Buccleuch, 
of which she was so fair a member, — enjoined upon Scott the com- 
position of a ballad upon one of these traditions, named that of 
" Gilpin Horner," and the Lay was the result. 

Newark Castle, though dismantled, is a capital example of a 
Scottish baronial residence in a country where both Scotch and 
English forays were frequent. It is said to have been erected about 
the middle of the fifteenth century by James II. The writer found 
it a large, square, lofty, simple tower, built of small broken gray 
stones, — its lower part having flush quoins of similar stone, and its 
upper part flush quoins of red sandstone. Two of the walls are 
flat topped and two terminate in gables. At the upper angles are 
turrets. The once high roof and the parapets ire gone, leaving the 
walls capped with grass sward and small shrubs. The windows 
are high up and not large. The prevalent color is dark iron-gray, 
flecked with much dull-russet lichen. The door of the tower, on 
its north side, is a small square-headed door, the key to which the 
writer found with a custodian near by ; and he offers the charitable 
hope that others, who obtain it as he did, may be enabled, as he 
was, also to enjoy undisturbed exploration of this grand old keep, 
and reading from the "Lay" within it. Its first, or basement, story, 
that which is first entered, is occupied by a hall dimly lighted 
through five little, grated, jail-like windows. The floor is of earth 
now, and rough. The ceiling is a semicircular arch, of flat, small- 
ish, rudely shaped stones, rising in the centre perhaps twenty feet 
above the floor. In the north-west angle is the chief, and now only, 
stair, — a neat and entire turnpike built of well-cut red sandstone. 
This must have been the " lady's stair," there being remains of an 
ordinary one in the opposite angle. From the main floor, that of 
the great hall and now grassy turf, the tower is open to the sky. 
Two or three floors and the roof once above this were apparently 
of wood. In the western wall is a high chimney and fireplace, 
and on either side are windows within deeply set arches. One can 
easily reach the top of the structure, whence is a pleasant view in 
which one sees the tower, surrounded by broken quadrilateral out- 
works, standing on a green hill, around nearly three sides of which 
the pure, brown, shallow Yarrow comes rippling, rustling, or dashing 



''THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.'' 21 

over a pebbly or stony bed between prettily, not densely, wooded 
banks. All around are walnut-trees and large red-berried haw- 
thorns. On the opposite side of the river is a park landscape 
backed by great hills, that were covered with dusky or yellowish- 
green grass or brown heather when the writer saw them. On other 
sides are the beautiful and carefully kept grounds of " Sweet Bow- 
hill," — a seat of the owner of all this region, the Duke of Buc- 
cleuch. Phihphaugh, seat of the Murrays, and Foulshiels, home 
of Mungo Park, the traveller in Africa, are also to be seen. The 
lands down the river eastward are more cultivated than those west- 
ward, where one may yet see stern heights, forested and heathery 
almost as in feudal times. One may see similar characteristics also 
along the southern horizon, that is defined by prominent flattened or 
more acute pyramidal elevations, bearing dark pines, or presenting 
beautiful colorings of grass and heather tints, — grand examples of 
the Border Hill. 

So it was in this characteristic Border stronghold, when its 
hall was a scene of hospitality, that the Aged Minstrel sang his 
" Lay" to the celebrated duchess of that also celebrated Duke of 
Monmouth, whose history need not be told here. One can recall the 
lady's form from among the Beauties of that style so favorite with 
Sir Peter Lely, — a handsome rounded form, a fair face, and abun- 
dance of luxuriant curls. 

" The Lay " at once transports us in imagination back to stirring 
and picturesque days of the middle of the sixteenth century, when, 
as Scott tells us, most of the personages introduced in the poem 
actually flourished. It at once brings to mind a lively representa- 
tion of Border life in feudal and knightly times, singing " the cus- 
tom of Branksome Hall," long the chief seat of the Buccleuch 
family. 

This seat, a castle poetically Branksome, prosaically Branxholm, 
is about three miles from Hawick, or a dozen or more southward 
from Selkirk, in the green pastoral dale of Teviot, where it stands 
on a little eminence not far from the river. All about it now are 
well-kept fields, and lawns of turf, and privet and hawthorn hedge- 
rows, and many shade-trees, and an aspect of peacefulness as if 
the place belonged to Arcadia. The writer found the edifice mainly 
modern, plain, two-storied, irregularly arranged, and built of rough 
chip stones (mostly covered with "rough-cast" plaster of a dingy 
bufl" color). Nearly the only ancient portion is at one corner, and 



23 ''THE LAY OF TEE LAST MINSTRELS 

that is a moderate-sized four-gabled tower, in castellated style, with 
simple walls built of small stones, plain quoins, a blocking course, 
and, beneath the eaves, a corbel table. But Branksome is not such 
an Old-World place as Newark, and one can almost as readily im- 
agine the action of "The Lay" at the latter, — action introducing one 
to much of the topography as well as feudal life of this Midland 
Border. 

" The least was over," the Minstrel sang, 
" And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; 
Her bower that was guarded by word and by spell ; " 

meditating vengeance for her late husband. Lord Walter Scott of 
Buccleuch, then lying dead in the castle, slain by certain Kerrs in 
a street of Edinburgh. Their young son and their daughter Mar- 
garet, and many retainers, were mourning over him, while of 

" Nine-and-twenty knights of fame," 
" Nine-and-twenty squires of name," 
" Nine-and-twenty yeomen tall," 
" Kinsmen to the bold Buccleuch ; " 
" Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 

With belted sword, and spur on heel ; 

They quitted not their harness bright, 

Neither by day, nor yet by night : " 
" Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 

Waited the beck of the warders ten ; 

Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 

Stood saddled in stable day and night," — 
*' Such was the custom of Branksome-Hall," — 
To " watch against Southern force and guile, 

Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, 

Threaten Branksome's lordly towers. 

From Warkworth, or Naworth, or merry Carlisle." 

And the Ladye, skilled in "magic mystery," was sitting in her 
"secret bower," 

" In old Lord David's western tower. 
And listens to a heavy sound, 
That moans the mossy turrets round." 
" The Ladye knew it well ! " 

In a "coming storm" 

" It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke. 
And he called on the Spirit of the Fell." 

She heard the two tell the story of Margaret, who was "sorrow 
laden " with hopeless love for Lord Cranstoun, whose family was at 
feud with her own ; and Margaret 



''THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 2']^ 

" knew, her mother dread, 
Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed, 
Would see her on her dying-bed." 

But the Mountain Spirit declared there should be " no kind in. 
fluence " 

"On Teviot's tide, and Branksome's tower. 

Till pride be quelled and love be free." 
" The unearthly voices ceast," 
Yet they " rung in the Ladye's ear. 
She raised her stately head, 
And her heart throbbed high with pride : — 
" 'Your mountains shall bend. 
And your- streams ascend, 

Ere Margaret be our foeman's bride ! ' " 

She went to the hall where her young son was playing among 
her armed retainers, and 

" called to her William of Deloraine — 
A stark moss-trooping Scott," 

who occupied lands, giving him his name, that were in Ettrick 
Forest, adjoining those of Buccleuch. She commanded him to 
mount his horse and hasten to Melrose Abbey, and enjoined him 
there to seek " the Monk of St. Mary's aisle ; " and she continued, 

" ' Greet the Father well from me ; 

Say that the fated hour is come. 
And to-night he shall watch with thee, 

To win the treasure of the tomb : ' " — 
" ' What he gives thee, see thou keep ; 
Stay not thou for food or sleep : 
Be it scroll, or be it book, 
Into it. Knight, thou must not look ; 
If thou readest, thou art lorn ! 
Better had'st thou ne'er been born.' " 

And thus mysteriously bidden, away the man-at-arms galloped 
by many a spot well known through the Border ; past Goldiland 
and Hawick and Minto Crags and Bowden Moor, until he reached 
Melrose after midnight, when "'twas silence," and he "sought the 
convent's lonely wall." 

Already Scott had shown his faculty for intense localization, — 
that portion of his power rendering topography charming and 
making him pecuHarly the Genius of place. And all this portion of 
the poem is delightfully demonstrative of this power, and others 
of his works associated with this region will add to this evidence, 



24 ''THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTRELS 

as will be found when the long tour proposed leads hereabouts 
again in chapters xxxiii., xxxiv., and xxxv. 

Few monastic remains are so celebrated latterly, and visited b) 
so many persons as those of Melrose, and few are more deserving 
of such attention. The Abbey Church was one of the most beau- 
tiful edifices ever reared in Scotland, rivalling those of the wealthy 
Enghsh monastic institutions. Like very many Scotch, and a few 
similar English ecclesiastical establishments, it stands in a town ; 
being closely upon a street of Melrose. It belonged to the great 
Order of Cistercians, that also once owned Fountains, Furness, 
Tintern, and many other Abbeys in England, glorious even now 
in their "proud decay;" and it illustrated the Latin lines expressing 
the style of site chosen by this Order, and by others : — 

" Bernardus valles, colles Benedictus amabat, 
Oppida Franciscus, magnas Ignatius urbes ; " 

for St. Bernard was the great saint of the Cistercians ; and Mel- 
rose Abbey, though near a town, is in a valley, close to running 
waters that the Fathers also loved. The principal approach to it 
the writer found a common lane lined by low walls, houses, and 
shops. But when once this lane is put behind one, and the grassy 
enclosure containing the ruin is explored, if the weather is fine, the 
exquisiteness of Scott's well-known descriptions is reahzed. The 
Abbey was founded by sainted King David, in the year 1136, and 
devastated during the wars and Reformation, in Henry VIIL's time. 
Mr. Billings says, that no portion of the present buildings appears to 
be older than the fifteenth century. The style is a sort of Conti- 
nental modification of English Perpendicular Pointed. The mate- 
rials used are compact red and buff sandstones promiscuously 
placed. On exposed surfaces, age and weather-wear have imparted 
a rather uniform russet-gray color : faded red is, however, the pre- 
vaihng tint, except beneath portions of stone-vaulted and ribbed 
roof rema.ining, where dampness has spread a mouldy gray. 

Little remains of the Abbey except the church, and the walls of 
that are tolerably entire, except the west front and western portion 
of the nave, which have almost entirely disappeared. Ot course 
the church was cruciform. It was two hundred and fifty feet by 
one hundred and thirty-seven feet, having a triple-aisled, eight-bayed 
nave, single-aisled transepts, — each with three bays of chapels 
eastward, — a short choir of two bays, and a single-aisled chancel, 



''THE LAY OF THE LAST 211 NS TREE.'' 25 

lighted on each of its three outer sides by a long large window. 
These windows, and a large one in the gable of the south transept, 
are nobly beautiful examples of perpendicular and geometrical 
design. There was a central tower, only the western face of which, 
eighty-four feet high, remains. The north nave aisle was narrow, 
and had a blank exterior wall, beyond which were the cloisters. 
The south nave aisle was wider, and had a range of chapels along 
its entire length towards the south. A brutal attempt to alter the 
nave into a parish church was made in the early part of the seven- 
teenth century, — an attempt that must always disfigure it. There 
was no triforium in the church. There was a diversely designed 
clere-story and magnificent groined roof. The sculptures and deco- 
rations were profuse. So durable is the red stone of which most 
of these are composed, that the delicately fohated capitals and 
elaborate crockets, canopies, and corbels, where unharmed by vio- 
lence, are now almost as perfect as when finished, more than four 
hundred years ago. 

But Wilham of Deloraine saw " fair Melrose aright," in com- 
plete order ; and this description is in detail to assist to better 
understanding of what he saw. Telling his errand to the aged 
" Monk of Saint Mary's aisle," he was, by him, ushered through a 
"steel-clenched postern door," — the archway of which yet remains 
perfect at the inner angle of the cloisters, — and thus entered the 
church, all perfect then. The vaulted, intricately ribbed, and 
richly embossed roof rose high : pillar and wall, screen and altar, 
were beautiful with delicate, unbroken decoration ; and through 
richly painted glass, glorious with bright forms of angels and saints 
and ho.y beings once mortal, came the ''dim, rehgious light." 

" The moon on the east oriel shone 
Through slender shafts of shapely stone, 
By foliaged tracery combined." 
" Full in the midst, his Cross of Red 
Triumphant Michael brandished, 

And trampled the Apostate's pride. 
The moonbeam kiss'd the holy pane, 
And threw on the pavement a bloody stain." 

" They sate them down on a marble stone," 

And watched until "the Cross of Red 

Points to the grave of the mighty dead." 



When 



An iron bar the Warrior took, 

And the Monk made a sign with his wither'd hand, 



26 ''THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 

and William of Deloraine opened a tomb thus designated, that of 
Michael Scott, the learned Knight of Balwearie, deemed in life a 
skilful magician, and buried there, long before, on a St. Michael's 
Eve. 

Deloraine in terror took the wizard's " Book of Might " from his 
opened grave, and from his cold, dead hand that held it ; and soon, 
during the early morning, hastened with the magic volume back to 
the lady who had sent for it. 

" The sun had brighten'd Cheviot gray, 
The sun had brighten'd the Carter's side ; 
And soon beneath the rising day 
Smiled Branksome Towers and Teviot's tide," — 

when Margaret, 

. . " loveher than the rose so red, 
Yet paler than the violet pale," 
Had " early left her sleepless bed, 
The fairest maid of Teviot dale." 

With doubt and haste and care, she stole away secretly, 

" through the greenwood," 
" To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight." 

She found him, and for a few short moments the two lovers were 
together ; meanwhile the baron's horse was held by his Dwarf. 
" scarce an earthly man." 

" Distorted like some dwarfish ape," 
" He was waspish, arch, and litherlie ; 
But well Lord Cranstoun served he " 

Suddenly this creature 

" Waves his long lean arm on high, 
And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; 
No time was then to vow or sigh." 

Margaret hurried away : Lord Henry vaulted to the saddle, and 
soon was encountered by William of Deloraine, then returning 
from Melrose. 

" Few were the words, and stem and high, 
That mark'd the foeman's feudal hate." 
" Their very coursers seem'd to know 
That each was other's mortal foe ; " 
and quickly 

" The meeting of these champions proud 
Seemed like the bursting thunder-cloud." 

They fought, and decisively indeed ; for Deloraine was unhorsed, 
and Cranstoun, leaving his elfin page to attend the wounded man 



''THE LAY OF THE LAST MlNSTEELr 27 

to Branksome, hurried away for life. He knew the vengeance of 
those times. 

The Dwarf soon found " the Mighty Book." 

" Much he marvell'd a knight of pride, 
Like a book-bosom'd priest should ride : 
He thought not to search or stanch the wound, 
Until the secret he had found." 

With difficulty he opened the book. From it he read a spell, that 

" Could make a ladye seem a knight," 

" And youth seem age, and age seem youth." 

But 

"He had not read another spell, 
When on his cheek a buffet fell, 
So fierce, it stretch'd him on the plain ; " 

a Strange blow that 

" was not given by man alive." 

Then he performed his master's bidding, and took William ot Deio- 
raine to Branksome, where 

'* He flung the waiTior on the ground." 

" As he repass'd the outer court, 
He spied the fair young child at sport ; " 

and, with characteristic malice, decoyed him away to a wild forest. 
There both were found by a Lancashire yeoman, who took the son 
of Lord Buccleuch to Lord Dacre of the English Marches. Mean- 
while, the Dwarf, transforming himself by the spell he had read 
from the Magic Book, assumed the boy's place at Branksome, where 

" It may be hardly thought or said, 
The mischief that the urchin made." 

That night, the whole Border-land was aroused by beacon-fires, 
spreading alarm of a foray from England ; and during its anxious 
hours the castle was prepared for defence. Spiritedly the Minstre! 
sings to us of the widely extending commotion ; and how 

" Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side ; 
Comes wading through the flood," 
With " tidings of the English foe ; " 



telling the Ladye 



' Belted Will Howard is marching here. 
And hot Lord Dacre, with many a spear, 
And all the German hackbut-men. 
Who have long lain at Askerten : 
They cross'd the Liddel at curfew hour. 
And burned my little lonely tower." 



2S " THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 

Then " weary scouts from Liddesdale, 

Fast hurrj'ing in, confirmed the tale ; 

As far as they could judge by ken, 

Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand 
Three thousand armed Englishmen — 
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, 
From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, 
Came in, their Chiefs defence to aid." 

The mustering of the Scottish Border forces is exciting enough, de- 
scribed in verses intensely local, picturesque, and interesting as the 
act itself. While allies and retainers came in, the Ladye endeavored 
to introduce her supposed son to them ; but he conducted himself 
so that 

" Wrathful was the noble dame ; 

She blush'd blood-red for vtry shame." 

Forthwith she sent Watt Tinlinn with him to " Rangleburn's lonely 
side," — a valley a few miles distant, even now as bare and deserted 
and forlorn a retreat as one can fancy existing in the south of 
Scotland. But while the couple were crossing a stream, the imp, too 
cunning for the trooper, escaped, and Watt drove back alone to 
Branksome. The Enghsh forayers soon invested the castle. 
Then, — 

" Rides forth the hoary Seneschal." 
" In sign of truce, his better hand 
Display'd a peeled willow wand ; " 

and he demanded in the name of his Ladye, why they came thus. 

In reply to him, the invaders called the Ladye to the outer wall, 
whence she saw her real son a prisoner, and heard a claim for Wil- 
liam of Deloraine, accused of excessive burnings and plunderings 
and " March treason." If he was not surrendered, the besiegers 
threatened to burn the castle and to carry the boy captive to King 
Edward at London. Nevertheless, the Ladye refused, and with 
great firmness, when a horseman galloping from the English rear 
informed the lords, — 

That " foemen triumph in the thought, 

That in the toils the lion's caught." 

That " Douglas holds his weapon-schaw 

Already on dark Ruberslaw : " 

That " on the Liddel's northern strand, 

To bar retreat to Cumberland, 

Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good." 

Evidently, Scottish forces were about cutting the forayers off 
from communication with England. A parley ensued ; and ulti- 



TUE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 29 

mately it was arranged that William of Deloraine should fight Lord 
Musgrave in single combat and that if the former prevailed, young 
Buccleuch should be free ; in any event, that the EngHsh should 
have free passage homeward. And thus a truce was concluded. 

" Scarcely the hot assault M-as staid. 
The terms of truce were scarceh' made. 
When they could spy, from Branksome's towers, 
The advancing march of marrlal po>*-ers." 

And onward and around came forces led by many a *•' chief of 
fame," — Douglas and Home and Swinton and Hepburn. Looking 
from the old walls of Newark, one can, in fancy, summon up this 
array (as also other stirring scenes). The terms of the truce were 
announced, and at once the two parties met each other peacefully ; 
for 

" Twixt truce and w-ar, such sudden change 
Was not infrequent, nor held strange. 
In the old Border-day." 

Indeed, a general festivity ensued, broken only by a few sounds of 
preparation for the lists in which the single combat was to be de- 
cided on the morrow. The fair Margaret of course was immensely 
courted by many a gallant man, but she escaped each one. 

" Despite the Dame's reproving eye," 
" With throbbing head and anxious heart. 
All in her lonely bower apart, 

In broken sleep she lay. 
By times, from silken couch she rose ; 
While yet the banner'd hosts repose. 

She \-iew'd the dawning day : 
Of all the hundreds sunk to rest. 
First woke the loveliest and the best. 
She gazed upon the inner court."' 

" Till stalking slow, — 
The jingling spurs announced his tread, — 
A stately warrior pass'd below." 
" She started : "' 

** While with surprise and fear she strove. 
And both could scarcely master love, — 
Lord Henr>''s at her feet." 

Margaret and her trae knight were left together. Afterwards, the 
s'ngle combat was fought. One should know how the Minstrel 
sings the whole stor\- of it, — and that story is too long for this 
sketch. Its closing scene is a holy Friar bending over the van- 
quished English champion, pouring "ghostly comfort on his 
heart; " but 



<0 " THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 

'• Unheard he prays ; — the death-pang's o'er I 

Richard of Musgrave breathes no niorp " 
" As if exhausted by the fight, 
Or musing o'er the piteous sight. 

The silent victor stands ; 
His beaver did he not unclasp," — 
" When a half-naked ghastly man " 

" downward from the castle ran : " 

It was William of Deloraine who had been supposed miracu- 
-ously cured of his wounds ; 

" And " who had " the battle fought and won ! " 
" Cranstoun of Teviot-side ! " 

He led the rescued boy to his mother, — 

" Yet not Lord Cranstoun deign 'd she greet." 

But there was much expostulation that she would forego the family 
feud. And, at U'^t 

" She looked to river, looked to hill, 
Thought oil the Spirit's prophecy, 
Then broke her silence stern and still, — 

' Not you, but Fate, has vanquish'd me ; 
Their influence, kindly stars may shower 
On Teviot's tide and Branksome tower, 

For pride is quelled and love is free.' 
She took fair Margaret by the hand, 
Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand ; 

That hand to Cranstoun's lord gave she." 

And thus their mutual love was plighted on the field. 

The Ladye learned soon how the Dwarf had meddled with the 
Magic Book, and had communicated one of its most potent spells to 
his master, enabling him to do the part he had done. She deter- 
mined to renounce attempts at practice of secret magic arts, — she 
had been so foiled in this affair, — and to replace the Book in Mi- 
chael's grave. 

Almost every one knows the magnificent and patriotic address to 
Scotland with which the Minstrel introduces the sixth and last Canto 
of "The Lay," — an address that those of any country may repeat 
and feel, and especially Americans returning from abroad. For 

" Breathes there the man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said. 

This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him bum'd, 
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd I " 



^'THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTRELS 31 

And while one gazes from the walls of Newark upon the vale of 
Yarrow, — that vale charmed by wonderful exquisiteness of song, 
or upon many another Scottish scene, — how inspiring that apos- 
trophe by the Minstrel ! — 

" O Caledonia, stern and wild, 
Meet nurse for a poetic child I 
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
Land of the mountain and the flood ! " 

And how one feels and loves those tender words of the aged bard 
that one finds following lines doing one's heart good to read 
from the monument to Scott, erected, "in provd and affec- 
tionate REMEMBRANCE," at Selkirk, by those who knew him 
well : 

" By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, 
Though none should guide my feeble way ; 
Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break. 
Although it chill my withered cheek." 

These introductions to Cantos contain some of the poet's best pas- 
sages, as the reading world is aware. 

But, to finish the Minstrel's story, we may imagine the old hall at 
Newark — now so broken — as it was when stately and entire, and 
when the story of "The Lay" ended in it, and there " was spread 
a gorgeous festival." Where one now hears only the musical rustle 
of the river or the breeze among the leaves, were then all the 
pleasant sounds of wedding ceremonies, and banquet, and feudal 
hospitality. Minstrels sang delightfully; all indeed "went merry 
as a marriage-bell." Three beautiful ballads were sung, the best 
among them the one "that mourns the lovely Rosabelle," — a 
romantic ballad associated with Roslin Castle and Chapel already 
described, — a ballad that should be read by all ; certainly by 
visitors to those very picturesque Old- World places. 

Suddenly the guests at the Newark festivities perceived that " a 
wondrous shade involved them all." 

" It was not eddying mist or fog, 
Drain'd by the sun from fen or bog ; 

Of no eclipse had sages told ; 
And yet, as it came on apace, 
Each one could scarce his neighbour's fact 
Could scarce his own stretch'd hand beholo — 
A secret horror check'd the feast, 
And chill'd the soul of every guest. 
Even the high Dame stood half aghast, 
She knew some evil on the blast ; 



^2 ^'TUE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:' 

The elvish page fell to the ground, 

And, shuddering, mutter'd, ' Found ! found ! found I * 

Then sudden through the darken'd air 

A flash of lightning came ; 
So broad, so bright, so red the glare, 

The castle seem'd on flame."' 
Then " on the elvish page it broke. 
It broke, with thunder long and loud, 
Dismayed the brave, appall'd the proud, — 

From sea to sea the larum rung ; 
On Berwick wall and at Carlisle withal ; 

To arms the startled warders sprung. 
When ended was the dreadful roar, 
The elvish dwarf was seen no more ! " 

Dreadful words and sights had startled each guest. Deloraine 
saw 

" right certainly, 
A shape with amice wrapp'd around, 
With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, 
Like pilgrim from beyond the sea ; 
And knew — but how it mattered not — 
It was the wizard, Michael Scott." 

All heard the wonderful tale of the book, and knew then how the 
dead had been disturbed, how unhallowed and unlawful search 
into forbidden knowledge had been avenged. And forthwith, 

" Then each, to ease his troubled breast. 
To some bless' d saint his prayers address'd : 
Some to Saint Modan made their vows, 
Some to Saint Mary of the Lowes, 
Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle ; 
Some to our Ladye of the Isle ; 
Each did his patron witness make," 
" That he a pilgrimage would take 
To Melrose Abbey, for the sake 
Of Michael's restless sprite." 
And the "noble dame, dismayM, 
Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid." 

" With naked foot and sackcloth vest, 
And arms enfolded on his breast, 
Did" each a "pilgrim go," 
" To the high altar's hallow'd side." 

And while we look upon the arches and the walls of that conse- 
crated Abbey, solemn and beautiful even now in its desolation, we 
can summon up the last impressive scene of the Border Minstrel's 
Lay, admiring its stateliness and joining heartily in the spirit of its 
devotion, as finally expressed, while imagining how, 



33 



'^TIIE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL:* 

" slow up the dim aisle afar, 
With sable cowl and scapular, 
And snow-white stoles, in order due, 
The holy Fathers, two and two, 

In long procession came ; 
Taper and host, and book they bare. 
And holy banner, flourish'd fair 

With the Redeemer's name. 
Above the prostrate pilgrim band 
The mitred Abbot stretch'd his hand. 

And bless'd them as they kneel'd ; 
With holy cross he sign'd them all, 
And pray'd they might be sage in hall. 

And fortunate in field. 
Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, 
And solemn requiem for the dead ; 
And bells toll'd out their mighty peal, 
For the departed spirit's weal ; 
And ever in the office close 
The hymn of intercession rose ; 
And far the echoing aisles prolong 
The awful burthen of the song, — 
Dies ir^e, dies illa, 
solvet s^clum in favilla ; 
While the pealing organ rung : 

Were it meet with sacred strain 
To close my lay, so light and vain. 
Thus the holy Fathers sung. 

HYMN FOR THE DEAD. 

That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
When heaven and earth shall pass away, 
What power shall be the sinner's stay? 
How shall he meet that dreadful day ? 

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll. 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When louder yet, and yet moi^e dread. 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead I 

Oh I on that day, that wrathful day, 
When man to judgment wakes from clay. 
Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay. 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away 1 " 

And thus closes impressively this poem of Old-World life, in a 
scene full of suggestions of its noblest spirit and aspect ; thus, 
with the majestic service of the ancient Church, glorious with its 
demonstrative faith and with harmonies of its exalted praise ; thus, 
expressing the poet's very heart, closes this "Lay^f the Last 
Minstrel." 



34 " MARMIONr- 

And while the measure and the meaning of that grand rendering 
of Thomas of Celano's sublime hymn linger in our hearts, expressed 
by the final words of the first great composition by the Great 
Magician, the words also suggest how their Latin originals were 
final words of that greater composition of his own life. And as he 
has made them seem yet to resound glorifyingly through the mould- 
ering Abbey, telling of its noble past, so also he has made them 
render beautiful his own passing away ; but of that ever telling of 
life through a far nobler future, in which there shall not only be 
no decay, but infinite development into the completeness of all 
beauty. 

Mr. Lockhart informs us that "in the first week of January, 1805, 
'The Lay' was pubhshed, and its success at once decided that lit- 
erature should form the main business of Scott's hfe." During the 
next year, accordingly, he published several " Ballads and Lyrical 
Pieces," and had even begun " Waverley, or 'tis Fifty Years since ; " 
a work laid aside to be completed nearly ten years afterwards. In 
February, 1808, appeared his next great poem, " Marmion," illus- 
trating much of the East Border of Scotland, as "The Lay "illus- 
trates the Middle Border, and also the vicinity of Edinburgh, and 
the coasts of East Lothian and Northumberland. 



VI. 

"Marmion, — A Tale of Flouden Field;" Its Incidents 
AND Scenery. 

OCOTT began this poem in November, 1806, and composed it 
^ while editing John Dryden's voluminous works. 1 1 was published 
on the 23d of February, 1808, "in a splendid quarto, price one 
guinea and a half." The two thousand copies forming this edition 
were all disposed of in less than a month. During the poet's life 
nearly fifty thousand copies were sold. 

" The poem opens about the commencement of August, and con- 
cludes witfi the defeat of Flodden, 9th September, 1513." Its 



•' HARM I on:' 35 

incidents are perhaps the most stirring of any combined in one of 
Scott's poetical works. Its scenery is more scattered than that of 
" The Lay," but the chief portions may be visited during a summer 
day actively spent near Belford, Northumberland, or Berwick-on- 
Tweed. 

The first scene is a sunset view of Norham Castle on the Tweed, 
— a view minutely drawn and brilliantly colored, reviving the former 
grandeur of that once important and famous English stronghold ; 
an example of such as characteristic of the English Border, as is 
Newark of the Scottish Border. It is easily reached from Melrose, 
by rail, as well as from Berwick, and by carriage-road from Bel- 
ford. Almost any approach to Norham town is pretty, and the town 
itself is interesting as a representative sort of place. It is simply, 
almost meanly, built upon one long street, with small houses and 
queer little inns and shops, and has a market-cross midway, the 
chun h at one end, and the castle at the other. This church is a 
venerable, round-arched edifice, quite romantically situated in its 
green and shaded burial-yard beside the river Tweed. A small ex- 
tent of field separates the town from the castle-site. One ascends 
a little, and then, after passing under the mouldering " gloomy por- 
tal-arch " yet remaining, enters the spacious area of therourt-yard. 
Embanked and embrasured walls, combining mediaeval and more 
modern styles of defensive architecture, surround it. Near the 
centre is the chief feature of the ruin, the grand and massive 
keep, dating from the twelfth century, and still seventy feet high, 
though shattered enough now, one of its sides and a portion of 
another being sadly dilapidated. It appears as if double, the west- 
ern half being the newer. On the south-west side rises a fragment 
of a bell-turret. The style is English castellated Gothic, simple 
yet imposing. The material, sandstone, once well hewn and 
faced, now scaled and furrowed, bleached and worn, has grown a 
reddish ashy-gray. The keep cannot now be easily ascended (the 
stair having been removed), nor does it present entire apartments 
Perhaps the most complete of these is the vaulted basement. The 
writer was not, however, induced to explore its recesses ; for he 
found them converted into a particularly offensive cow-house. 

But a glowing sunset, such as it was his good fortune to behold 
glorifying the old keep and the pleasant landscape around it, reviv- 
ifies Norham with the light of romance ; and, under such an effect, 
one may wander delighted over its " castled steep," beneath its 



36 ''MARMIONy 

ruins, or its thickly growing beeches and alders, or its precipitous 
rocky banks of dark and light veined strata, that, mostly pale ashen - 
gray, rise closely above the placid river. One sees northward rural 
or forest-mantled grounds, and southward, over town and castle-hill, 
as far as the long but not prominent forms of the Cheviots in the 
blue distance. 

Then may be well imagined how this " Tale of Flodden Field " 
begins by showing Lord Marmion, a powerful noble and soldier, 
ushered at twilight into the castle, with presenting of arms by the 
guard, and by sound of trumpet and " salvo-shot," and minstrels' 
greeting : — 

" * Welcome to Norham, Marmion 1 
Stout heart, and open hand ! 
Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan, 
Thou flower of English land I ' " 

" They marshall'd him to the Castle-hall, 

Where the guests stood all aside, 
And loudly flourish'd the trumpet-call, 

And the heralds loudly cried, 
— ' Room, lordlings, room for Lord Marmion, 
With the crest and helm of gold 1 ' " 

" Then stepp'd, to meet that noble Lord, 

Sir Hugh the Heron bold. 
Baron of Twisell and of Ford, 

And Captain of the Hold. 
He led Lord Marmion to the deas, 

Raised o'er the pavement high. 
And placed him in the upper place — 

They feasted full and high." 

The Heron invited Lord Marmion to remain with him awhile at 
Norham ; but, with the invitation, he jestingly added words about a 
certain " gentle page " whom he had seen with Marmion when they 
last met, at Raby Castle. 

" Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest ; 

He roll'd his kindling eye. 
With pain his rising wrath suppress'd. 

Yet made a calm reply : 
' That boy thou thought'st so goodly fair, 

He might not brook the northern air. 
More of his fate if thou wouldst learn, 

I left him sick in Lindisfame. ' " 

And the story eventually explains his lordship's ire and the strange 
character of the page, and how the page was " sick in Lindisfarne." 



^^M ARM I on:' 37 

Lord Marmion, in turn, inquired about Lady Heron, then absent ; 
asking, with covert irony, if she had " gone on some pious pilgrim- 
age," for he knew that "fame whispered h'ght tales of Heron's 
dame." The husband, however, did not " mark the taunt ; " reply- 
ing that Norham was too grim a place for her, and that she was at 
the Court of Queen Margaret of Scotland. Upon which Marmion, 
instead of accepting Sir Hugh's invitation, continued : — 

" ' Nay, if with Royal James's bride 
The lovely Lady Heron bide, 
Behold me here a messenger. 
Your tender greetings prompt to bear ; 
For, to the Scottish court address'd, 
I journey at our King's behest, 
And pray you, of your grace, provide 
For me, and mine, a trusty guide.' " 
. ..." in form of peace I go, 
A friendly messenger, to know, 
Why, through all Scotland, near and far, 
Their King is mustering troops for war." 

Guides of the desirable sort did not appear abundant. It was, 
however, arranged that Marmion should be accompanied by a 
palmer just arrived at the castle. Accordingly, " with early dawn 
Lord Marmion rose," and before long departed with his train, amid 
flourishes of trumpets and salvos of cannon. 

The breeze that swept away this artillery smoke was at the same 
time blowing freshly along the Northumbrian coast, bearing on- 
ward a bark, upon the deck of which sat the " Abbess of St. Hilda," 
"with five fair nuns," bound " from high Whitby's cloister'd pile " 
" to St. Cuthbert's Holy Isle." Their progress is graphically and 
picturesquely sketched in Scott's peculiarly delightful topographic 
poetry : — 

" The vessel skirts the strand 
Of mountainous Northumberland ; 
Towns, towers, and halls, successive rise, 
And catch the nuns' delighted eyes. 
Monk-Wearmouth soon behind them lay, 
And Tynemouth's priory and bay ; 
They mark'd, amid her trees, the hall 
Of lofty Seaton-Delaval ; 
They saw the Blythe and Wansbeck floods 
Rush to the sea through sounding woods ; 
They pass'd the tower of Widderingtori, 
Mother of many a valiant son ; 
At Coquet-isle their beads they tell 
To the good Saint who own'd the cell ; 



^8 " MARMIONy 

Then did the Ahie attention claim, 

And Warkworth, proud of Percy's name ; 

And next, they cross'd themselves, to hear 

The whitening breakers sound so near, 

Where, boiling through the rocks, they roar. 

On Dunstanborough's cavern'd shore ; 

Thy tower, proud Bamborough, mark'd they there. 

King Ida's castle, huge and square, 

From its tall rock look grimly down, 

And on the swelling ocean frown ; 

Then from the coast they bore away. 

And reach'd the Holy Island's bay." 

" As to the port the galley flew, 
Higher and higher rose to view 
The Castle with its battled walls. 
The ancient Monastery's halls." 

•' In Saxon strength that Abbey frown 'd. 
With massive arches broad and round. 

That rose alternate, row and row, 

On ponderous columns, short and low, 
Built ere the art was known. 

By pointed aisle, and shafted stalk. 

The arcades of an alley'd walk 
To emulate in stone. 
On the deep walls the heathen Dane 
Had pour'd his impious rage in vain ; 
And needful was such strength to these, 
Exposed to the tempestuous seas, 
Scourged by the winds' eternal sway. 
Open to rovers fierce as they. 
Which could twelve hundred years withstand 
Winds, waves, and northern pirates' hand." 

The many romantic places described in these lines are all well 
worth attention, and may be visited while the traveller is also visit- 
ing scenes sketched in chapter xxxvii. Space admits here only brief 
account of the Abbey of the Holy Island, Lindisfarne, now a ruin, 
that is agreeably accessible from the town of Belford, and connect- 
edly with an excursion to Flodden Field, — a place so conspicuous 
among the scenes of " Marmion." The traveller, going from Belford 
by a shaded roadway, and thence across open country in sight of 
the sea, reaches a very wide extent of soft sand (if the tide is low) ; 
and this must be passed in a carriage or the saddle for the sake of 
comfort, and a guide must be taken for safety. This route is im- 
practicable when the tide is rising or at any height. Then, very 
possibly, a couple of barefooted women will drag a boat, on a sort 
of two- wheeled truck, down to the water's edge ; and a ferryman. 



''MARMIONy 39 

hoisting a dark reddish-brown sail, will soon transport the travellei 
to the curious, secluded Holy Island. It is eight or nine miles in 
circuit ; its northern part is rather low ; its southern point rises 
very steeply and conically, presenting a sharp spur north eastward 
toward its little town, or port. This elevation, or peak, is crowned 
by the small but celebrated and picturesque " Castle of the Holy 
Island," — well represented by Finden's engraving. Other scenery 
on the island is not remarkable, but the panoramic view from it is 
of no little interest. Eastward rolls the broad, wild, storied German 
Ocean ; south-eastward stretch the low shores of this out-of-the-way 
spot, with rows of fishing-boats, ended by the old castle. Beyond 
that he the low, rocky Farn Isles, — scenes of many dreadful wrecks, 
and of Grace Darling's heroism. Thence around westward to north, 
extend wastes of sand towards towering, embattled Bamborough, 
and then the Northumbrian fields. Looking on these, one cannot 
marvel that the pagan Northmen should manifest such predilections 
for them as they did. Farther north, the view ranges along this 
pleasant land till it terminates in the broad and sometimes broken 
masses of the Kyloe Hills, and in the high shores towards Berwick. 
The most interesting object on the island is that most associated 
with this poem, the ruined Lindisfarne Abbey. As usual in similar 
remains, the church is now the principal portion spared. It is small, 
— only a hundred and thirty-eight feet long, — but very venerable, 
built at various early dates by persons now scarcely known. The style 
is chiefly decorated Norman. The material is soft red sandstone. 
The choir, part of what may have been the transepts, and the left aisle 
of the nave are tolerably preserved. A single, massive, richly orna- 
mented rib, diagonally spanning the intersecting arms of the edi- 
fice, is left, alone, to show the former style and arrangement of the 
roof. The underground passages once existing are filled or brok- 
en now, so that one cannot stand, indignant, where was enacted the 
next scene of the Tale : — 

" Where, in a secret aisle beneath, 
Council was held of life and death. 
It was more dark and lone that vault, 
Than the worst dungeon cell." 

" But though, in the monastic pile, 
Did of this penitential aisle 
Some vague tradition go, 
Few only, save the Abbot, knew 
Where the place lay ; and still mere few 



40 



" marmion:' 

Were those, who had from him the clew 
To that dread vault to go." 

' There, met to doom in secrecy, 
Were placed the heads of convents three : 
All servants of Saint Benedict, 
The statutes of whose order strict 
On iron table lay." 



There also was an " Ancient Man," 

" Upon whose wrinkled brow alone, 

Nor ruth, nor mercy's trace, is shown," 
" The Saint of Lindisfame." 

" Before them stood a guilty pair ; 

But, though an equal fate they share, 

Yet one alone deserves our care. 

Her sex a page's dress belied ; " 
" Obscured her charms, but could not hide." 

" She tried to hide the badge of blue. 
Lord M arm ion's falcon crest. 

But, at the Prioress' command, 

A Monk undid the silken band 
That tied her tresses fair, 

And raised the bonnet from her head. 

And down her slender form they spread 
In ringlets rich and rare. 

Constance de Beverley they know, 

Sister professed of Fontevraud, 

Whom the Church number'd with the dead, 

For broken vows, and convent fled." 

Anachronistic though nice antiquarianism may rate the intro- 
duction of nuns at the place represented, and at the time, — that 
of Henry VIII., — this whole scene is such as not unfrequently 
was enacted when the ancient church was most powerful. And this 
scene is characteristic of this Tale, as the closing scene of " The 
Lay " is of that poem. For " The Tale " shows the darker phases 
of monastic life, during about the same period as that of which 
"The Lay" shows some of the lighter. Those who know the 
strange nooks and retreats of the olden time yet existing in Europe, 
— such as the dungeons of the Neues Schloss at Baden-Baden, the 
prisons of the Rathhaus in Nuremberg or of Venice, or even the 
cells of Chillon, or the Folterkammer of Hohen Salzburg, — can 
conjure up this scene. 

" 'Tis an old tale, and often told." 



" marmion:' 



4' 



Constance confessed, — 



" I listen'd to a traitor's tale, 

I left the convent and the veil ; 

For three long years I bow'd my pride, 

A horse-boy in his train to ride." 
" He saw young Clara's face more fair. 

He knew her of broad lands the heir. 

Forgot his vows, his faith forswore, 

And Constance was beloved no more. — 
'Tis an old tale, and often told." 

Constance had loved and trusted a villain, had broken her vow 
as nun and followed him, had been deserted, and now must 
suffer the punishment appointed for apostates such as she. The 
"sightless Abbot" spoke her doom in those words of the Ro- 
man priests, professedly a benediction, yet so awfully suggestive in 
their use, — " Vade in Pace," — 

" * Sister, let thy sorrows cease ; 
Sinful brother, part in peace 1 ' " 

And Constance felt the real significance of this awful benediction 
in its doom that caused her to be immured, — placed in a small 
niche in a wall that was built up around her. 

" Yet dread me, from my living tomb. 
Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome 1 " — 

she exclaimed, while they buried her, — 

*' If Marmion's late remorse should wake, 
Full soon such vengeance will he take, 
That you shall wish the fiery Dane 
Had rather been your guest again." 

But from that "place of doom, 
Of execution too, and tomb, 

Paced forth the judges three ; 
Sorrow it were, and shame to tell 
The butcher-work that there befell, 
When they had glided from the cell 

Of sin and misery." 



' The livelong day Lord Marmion rode : 
The mountain-path the Palmer show'd 
By glen and streamlet winded still." 



Meanwhile, 

Towards evening they reached and tarried at the inn of Gifford, 
a village a few miles from Haddington, and about twenty from 
Edinburgh. Scottish inns, or hostelries, of the sort at the time of 
the Tale, do not now flourish ; and happily for the traveller that they 



4- 



MARMl on: 



do not, so indifferent were they. The company at Gifford, we are 
told, gathered promiscuously around a great blazing fire, and spent 
the evening in a manner jovial and merry to most of them, how- 
ever. A song was sung by one Fitz Eustace, and a tale was told 
by the host, both of which were of a sort disquieting to Marmion, 
as a stanza of the song is sufficient to show : — 

" Where shall the traitor rest, 

He, the deceiver, 
Who could win maiden's breast, 

Ruin, and leave her ? 
In the lost battle. 

Borne down by the flying, 
Where mingles war's rattle 

With groans of the dying. 
Elezi loro, etc. There shall he be lying " — 

words that haunted Marmion with fearful truth ever after. Then, 
and often again, a nun's death-peal seemed to ring in his ear. 

" Well might he falter ! — By his aid 

Was Constance Beverley betray'd. 

Not that he augur'd of the doom 

Which on the living closed the tomb : 

But, tired to hear the desperate maid 

Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid ; 

And wroth, because, in wild despair, 

She practised on the life of Clare; 

Its fugitive the Church he gave, 

Though not a victim, but a slave ; 

And deem'd restraint in convent strange 

Would hide her wrongs, and her revenge." 
" His conscience slept — he deem'd her well." 

But remorse began to torment him, 

" And Constance, late betray'd and scorn'd, 
All lovely on his soul return'd." 

The Host's Tale was about Sir Hugo, of the ancient castle of Gif- 
ford or Yester, founder of a "Gobhn-Hall" there, who could fight 
pagans or beings of another world. It was a tale of " Elfin Chiv- 
alry," the scene of which, near by, Marmion, later at night, rode out 
to view. But, 

" In other pace than forth he yode, 
Return'd Lord Marmion." 

His Squire, Fitz Eustace, perceived that there had been some 
strange occurrence. The " Tale " tells it. Early on the next 
morning Marmion and his company, greatly to the general relief, 
left the hostel. On the road they met a brilliant party led by " Sir 



"MARMIONy 43 

David Lindesay of the Mount, Lord Lion King-at-arms ; " and, after 
exchange of very handsome civiHties, the two parties, English and 
Scotch, went to Crichton Castle. 

*' For there the Lion's care asslgn'd 
A lodging meet for Marmion's rank. 
That castle rises on the steep 
Of the green vale of Tyne," 

and the poet's description of it is charmingly graphic and pictu- 
resque. It will be found in a delightful rural country about a dozen 
miles south-east of Edinburgh. It is a vast hollow square built in 
various styles, and now a ruin rudely magnificent, decayed, and 
dishonored. 

There the parties of the " Tale " rested during two days, Mar- 
mion being 

" With every rite that honor claims, 
Attended as the King's own guest ; — 
Such the command of Royal James, 
Who marshall'd then his land's array, 
Upon the Borough-moor that lay. 
Perchance he would not foeman's eye 
Upon his gathering host should pry. 
Till full prepared was every band 
To march against the English land." 

Lord Lmdesay, in endeavoring to entertain this noble guest after 
fashion of the time and " Tale," told this guest a story, — one that 
again and yet more disquieted him. Nevertheless, Marmion at 
length left Crichton, and journeyed on for " Scotland's camp," which 
he discovered from Blackford Hill, covering "the Borough-moor 
below," — a common-moor that then extended from the southern 
walls of Edinburgh to the bottom of Braid Hills, a distance of 
over two miles. Some of Scott's noblest Hues described that pros- 
pect. 

" Lord Marmion view'd the landscape bright, — 
He view'd it with a chief's delight," — 
And still upon the spot he stay'd, 
" For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed. 
When sated with the martial show 
That peopled all the plain below, 
The wandering eye could o'er it go. 
And mark the distant city glow 

With gloomy splendor red ; 
For on the smoke-vweaths, huge and slow, 
That round her sable turrets flow, 
The morning beams were shed, 



44 ''MARMion:' 

And tinged them with a lustre proud, 
Like that which streaks a thundercloud. 
Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, 
Where the huge Castle holds its state, 

And all the steep slope down, 
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
Piled deep and massy, close and high, 

Mine own romantic town ! 
But northward far, with purer blaze, 
On Ochil mountains fell the rays, 
And as each heathy top they kissed. 
It gleam 'd a purple amethyst. 
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw ; 
Here Preston-Bay, and Berwick-Law; 

And, broad between them roll'd, 
The gallant Frith the eye might note, 
Whose islands on its bosom float. 

Like emeralds chased in gold." 
It is the " Empress of the North " 

Upon " her hilly throne," 
With " palace's imperial bowers," 
And " castle, proof to hostile powers," 
And " stately halls and holy towers." 

Those who know Edinburgh only from words and engravings can 
admire this magnificent description : those who have had the good 
fortune to witness the grand effects of hght and color in which the 
great landscape painter of literature has shown this view, and who 
have enjoyed them from Blackford Hill, or Arthur's Seat, or Salis- 
bury Crags, will feel its graphic beauty. It is quoted by John 
Ruskin, not only as a fine description, but also as an example of 
Scott's mode of representing scenery by color rather than by the 
less vivid characteristics of form and dimension. 

Gazing awhile, charmed by the sight. Lord Marmion and his 
train moved onward ; his lordship skilfully glancing through every 
line and squadron of the Scottish army as he passed it on his way 
to Holyrood Palace, and an animated and varied and imposing 
array he beheld. When he reached the city, Lord Lindesay took 
him to a fitting lodging, whence, after vespers, both went to the 
King's Court. 

" Old Holyrood rung merrily. 
That night, with wassail, mirth, and glee : 
King James, within her princely bower, 
Feasted the Chiefs of Scotland's power." 

The palace was a scene of splendid festivity. The apartments in 
it are so changed now from what they were in those times, that one 
does not so readily imagine their aspect on this night as one does 



"MARMIONr 43 

during later and more historic events that Scott has represented in 
them. The gay and romantic monarch (James IV.) graciously re- 
ceived Lord Marmion ; and, before long, the latter was entertaining 
himself quite gallantly among the lords and ladies, — especially the 
ladies, for whose society he had an excessive passion. Now it so 
was that — 

" O'er James's heart, the courtiers say, 

Sir Hugh the Heron's wife held sway: " 
" And thus," admitting " EngHsh fair 

His inmost counsels still to share," 
" he madly plann'd 

The ruin of himself and land I " 

While 

'' His own Queen Margaret, " " in Lithgow's bower, 
All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour." 

Both King and Ambassador, indeed, were bewitched by the wily 
lady's performances, especially by a song that she sang in a most 
captivating manner. It is a ballad-song known to almost every 
one : — 

" Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west ! " 

Who does not know of the gallant exploit of this Lord, — 

" So daring in love, and so dauntless in war " ? 

The West Border, where this exploit was performed, is a roman- 
tic country ; and few more interesting drives of the sort can be 
found than one over the coach-road, traversing it from Hawick to 
Carlisle, — a road more picturesque than even the pleasant railway 
now used for public traffic. In its varied series of scenes, this road 
takes one uf) Teviot-dale, between hedge-rows and among beautiful 
fields and hiMs, past the peel of Goldieland, and Branksome, and 
then through less cultivated regions, until after the elevated moss- 
source of Frostlee-burn is passed, and the usual landscape of the 
headwaters of border streams, — narrow valleys confined between 
large, rounded, bare and grassy hills, whose slopes are varied only 
by patches of whin or ferns, and by few landmarks or bounds. 
Then one descends through Langholm to a road delightful as 
reasonably imaginable. The Esk, broad and shallow, flows pleas- 
antly among flat mossy rocks, often large, all overhung (as is un- 
usual k\ Scotland) by magnificent trees, while the road closely 
beside it is Hned and shaded by these, and by hedges and mossy 
walls. The open country is of rich rural beauty, and in it are 
Netherby Hall and Cannobie Lee, where Lord Lochinvar flourished 



46 ''Marmion:- 

The monarch was very flatteringly admiring the lovely syren, and 
her song of the dashing lover's exploits in that romantic region, 
when he perceived that she was exchanging glances with Lord 
Marmion. 

*' Familiar was the look, and told, 
Marmion and she were friends of old." 

" Monarchs ill can rivals brook," 
" Straight took he forth the parchment broad. 
Which Marmion's high commission show'd." 

Short ceremony the monarch had then. He declared his hostility 
to England, and bade Marmion retire to Tantallon Castle, seat of 
"the Douglas bold ; " and soon the ambassador of King Henry left 
the Court, while the 

" Minstrels, at the royal order, 
Rung out — ' Blue Bonnets o'er the Border,' " 

that old Scottish war-song. 

Lord Douglas accompanied the ambassador thus summarily sent 
to his castle, — one of the most important in Scotland, and even 
now one of its chief baronial antiquities. A railway ride of about 
an hour, or twenty-two miles, to North Berwick, and thence a walk 
or drive of three miles, take one from Edinburgh to Tantallon,— an 
imposing evidence, indeed, of the power of its former Lords, the 
famous Douglases. Its ground form is a large irregular hexagon ; 
its features (says Billings) " are in a great measure a mixture of 
round and square towers, not distinct, but running into each other." 
In Scott's " Provincial Antiquities " and in BiUings's " Baronial 
Antiquities of Scotland," excellent descriptions and engraved views 
of this place can be found. But the best of all descriptions is that 
in this "Tale of Flodden Field," showing "Tantallon vast" as it 
was at the time of the story, with its walls and towers 

" Broad, massive, high, and stretching far, 
And held impregnable in war. 
On a projecting rock they rose, 
And round three sides the ocean flows, 
The fourth did battled walls enclose, 

And double mound and fosse. 
By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong, 
Through studded gates, and entrance long, 

To the main court they cross. 
It was a wide and stately square : 
Around were lodgings, fit and fair, 

And towers of various form, 
Which on the court projected far, 
And broke its lines quadrangular. 



''HARM I on:' 47 

Here was square keep, there turret high, 
Or pinnacle that sought the sky, 
Whence oft the Warder could descry 
The gathering ocean-storm." 

The seaward views from this spot are grand, often wildly so 
Directly opposite, two miles from shore, rises pale and sheer, four 
hundred feet out of the waves, the wonderful Bass Rock, a mile in 
circuit, and accessible only at a single point even in calm weather. 
One gazing at this, the chief feature of the view, gains a vivid idea 
of the castle's former reputation for immense strength, from that 
old proverb stating two acts once deemed equally possible : " Ding 
doon Tantallon ! mak a brig to the Bass ! " (" Knock down 
Tantallon ! make a bridge to the Bass ! ") But Cromwell's cannon 
did partially knock down this grand stronghold, as they did many 
another. The greater amount of destruction appears, however, to 
have been permitted under the ownership of certain Dalrymples of 
North Berwick. One does not here feel the evidence of avenging 
justice, as one can feel it among some ruins. This is rather a 
monument of the insubstantiality of human greatness and the force 
of human passions, and also of disregard of national historic monu- 
ments. 

At about the time of Marmion's arrival here, a prize, " the first- 
fruits of the war," so abruptly declared at Holyrood, had been 
taken by a cruiser from Dunbar. It was the galley of the Abbess 
of Saint Hilda, with " a bevy of the maids of Heaven," and it had 
been carried into Edinburgh. Royal command had been given that 
" under Marmion's care " the maids should be escorted back, by way 
of Tantallon, "again to English land." 

" Unwittingly, King James had given, 
As guard to Whitby's shades, 
The man most dreaded under heaven 
By these defenceless maids." 

Naturally, the Abbess, thinking of this escort, and of Constance 
Beverley, was greatly perturbed. She confessed to the "holy 
Palmer " how 

*' De Wilton and Lord Marmion woo'd 
Clara de Clare, of Gloster's blood ; " 

how Marmion, in jealousy, had accused De Wilton of secret treason, 
and had practised foully to prove it ; how 

Clare, " rather than wed Marmion, 
Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair, 



.|S ''MARMION.'' 

To give our house her livings fair 
And die a vestal vot'ress there ; " 

how Constance had aided towards the degradation of De Wilton, — 

That o'er her lover she might gain, 
" As privy to his honor's stain, 
Illimitable power; " 

and finally how proofs of all this plot were found upon Constance 
These proofs, written, the Abbess conjured the Palmer to bear to 
King Henry's great minister, Cardinal Wolsey. 

The Abbess, with Clare, however, became guests, by royal order, 
Tt Tantallon. Clare was wont to walk upon the battlements, 

" And muse upon her sorrows there." 

And thus, on a certain evening, it occurred, that she unexpectedly 
met De Wilton, who told his recent history ; how, disgraced and 
shunned, he had assumed the habit of a Palmer, and visited many 
lands ; how report had spread that he had died in pilgrimage, but 
how he had at length come to Scotland, in what m.anner the reader 
knows. And Clare had found him, after the style of young knights, 
guarding his armor, given him by Lord Douglas, to whom he had 
told his story and the foul wrong done him, and who was that very 
evening to re-create him knight. The next day, he said that, — 

" again a belted knight," 

he was to go to the camp of Lord Surrey of England. 
That same evening 

" Clare the spurs bound on his heels," 
And " Douglas struck him with his blade : 
' Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid, 

I dub thee knight. 
Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir! 
For King, for Church, for Lady f-iir, 

See that thou fight." 

At this same period various reports and exaggerations reached the 
castle and Lord Marmion, representing that King James had taken 
sundry strong English border-holds, — reports so exciting his Lord- 
ship that he determined to break off his official tarrying in the 
North, and, early on the morrow, to depart for the seat of war, 
Accordingly, on the next day, 

" He had safe conduct for his band, 

Beneath the royal seal and hand, 

And Douglas gave a guide." 



marmion: 



49 



Precautions for the journey were arranged, and Marmion, having 
Clare and others in his company, was about to start, when, attempt- 
ing to bid adieu to Lord Douglas, he opened a celebrated and stir- 
ring scene quite worth recalling at Tantallon or elsewhere. Said 
Marmion to the mighty Scotchman : 

" ' Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble Earl, receive my hand.' 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak. 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 
' My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my Sovereign's will, 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer. 
My castles are my King's alone. 
From turret to foundation-stone — 
The hand of Douglas is his own ; 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp.' 

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire. 
And shook his very frame for ire, 

And — ' This to me I ' he said, 
' An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head ! 
And first, I tell thee, haughty Peer, 
He who does England's message here, 
Although the meanest in her state. 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ; 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here. 

Even in thy pitch of pride. 
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near, 
(Nay, never look upon your lord. 
And lay your hands upon your sword,) 

I tell thee thou'rt defied I 
And if thou saidst, I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here. 
Lowland or Highland, far or near. 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied ! ' — 
On tLs Earl's cheek the flush of rage 
O'ercame the ashen hue of age : 
Fierce he broke forth, — ' And darest thou then 
To beard the lion in his den. 

The Douglas in his hall ? 
And hopest thou hence unscathed to go ? — 
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no ! 
Up drawbridge, grooms — what, Warder, ho I 

Let the portcullis fall.' — 
Lord Marmion turn'd, — well was his need. 
And dashed the rowels in his steed. 



^jo " marmion:' 

Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
The ponderous grate beliind him rung : 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars descending, razed his plume." 

The first thought of the insulted and exasperated Douglas was 
instant pursuit ; but, as a moment's reflection suggested the ofiice 
of Marmion, he allowed the ambassador's departure. 

Consequently Marmion, with his party, journeyed on during the 
day, southward. At length he noticed that the Palmer, who had 
been of the party, was missing. Gradually he learned how this 
Palmer, really De Wilton, had fared at Tantallon, and how departed 
thence. Regrets for omission to desjDatch his rival were of small 
avail. Nor was Marmion soothed by reflections on Lady Clare, of 
whom there is not a little told in the poem that is not in this sketch, 
and that caused him to feel the truth, — 

" O, what a tangled web we weave, 
When first we practise to deceive ! " — 

" Sti;ug with these thoughts, he urged to speed 
His troop, and reach'd, at eve, the Tweed, 
Where Lennel's convent closed their march." 

This convent was near Coldstream (where that famous regiment, 
the Guards, named from it, was raised by General Monk at the 
Restoration), and nearly opposite Cornhill Station. Scarcely any 
thing now remains of the building. 

" Next morn the Baron climb'd the tower, 
To view afar the Scottish power, 
Encamp'd on Flodden edge." 

He saw that this power, led by King James, must soon begin the 
famous battle of Flodden Field, so disastrous to the king and to 
Scotland. He at once assembled his party, including Clare. 

" Then on that dangerous ford, and deep, 
Where to the Tweed Leat's eddies creep. 

He ventured desperately: " 
" The southern bank they gain," 
And " halted by a Cross of Stone, 
That, on a hillock standing lone, 
Did all the field command." 
*' Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare : 
Oh, think of Marmion in thy prayer I " — 



he said. 



You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard. 
With ten pick'd archers of my train ; 

With England if the day go hard. 
To Berwick speed amain. — 



''marmion:' ^i 

But if we conquer, cruel maid, 
My spoils shall at your feet be laid, 
When here we meet again.' " 

Meedless of her despairing look, or the discontent of each squire, 
he dashed away to Lord Surrey. 

Flodden Field is about three miles from Cornhill, a station only 
about six miles from Norham, so that this closing scene of the 
" Tale " can easily be visited during an excursion to the opening 
scene, and, as before noticed, connectedly with an excursion to Holy 
Island. Scott's poetic description of the battle is so spirited and 
so graphic that it should be read entire, and there is not space here 
for the whole description. Furthermore, there are few passages in 
his works more generally known than this. 

The battle-ground "is now under cultivation," says the guide; 
" but the battle positions on it can still be traced. Flodden Hill, 
on which the Scottish army was posted, is an outskirt of the Chev- 
iots, descending with a slope of about half a mile to the Till." 
This stream the English crossed, from Millfield plain opposite, 
through its " deep, picturesque ravine, faced with shelving, broken, 
grotesque rocks, and tangled and shaggy with wood," — a ravine 
retaining " nearly the same features and the same objects as on the 
day of the battle." The Scotch neglected opposing the passage, 
and thus lost great advantage of position. The Till is a " deep, 
dark, and sullen stream ; " its difference from the rapid Tweed, 
into which it flows, is shown in the old rhyme :— • 

" Tweed said to Till, — 

' What gars ye rin sae still ? ' 

Till said to Tweed, — 

• Though ye rin wi' speed, 

And I run slaw. 
Yet, where ye droun ae man, 

I droun twa.' " 

This ravine, of such strategic importance at the time of the 
famous battle, is additionally interesting since such natural features 
are now often lost to old battle-fields, and since other features of 
this one are changed. 

The stirring verses of the Great Magician renew, to one who 
reads them at Flodden, or elsewhere, the desperate conflict, and 
portray its varying fortunes. There are few who do not know the 
ending. Near an ancient stone-cross — since ruinous and meanly 
surrounded — lay Marmion wounded, and almost forsaken, except 
bv Clare. 



52 " MARMIONr 

" Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears ; 
The plaintive voice alone she hears. 
Sees but the dying man." 

And she, with a monk, attended him. Well might the poet say : 

" O Woman ! in our hours of ease. 
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
And variable as the shade 
By the light quivering aspen made ; 
When pain and anguish wring the brow, 
A ministering angel thou ! " 

" As she stoop'd his brow to lave — 

• Is it the hand of Clare,' he said, 

• Or injured Constance, bathes my head? ' " 

And then he learned the tragedy at Lindlsfarne, but too late for 
redress. Dying, he exclaimed, — 

" ' I would the Fiend, to whom belongs 
The vengeance due to all her wrongs, 

Would spare me but a day ! 
For wasting fire, and dying groan, 
And priests slain on the altar stone, 

Might bribe him for delay. 
It may not be I — this dizzy trance — 
Curse on yon base marauder's lance. 
And doubly cursed my failing brand I 
A sinful heart makes feeble hand.' " 

Then he sank fainting, hearing no consolations oflfered him, but, 
instead, a lady's voice ever singing, — 



Until, 



" In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, 
Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying ! '* 

" The war, that for a space did fail. 
Now trebly thundering swell'd the gale, 

And — Stanley ! was the cry ; — 
A light on Marmion's visage spread, 

And fired his glazing eye : 
With dying hand, above his head. 
He shook the fragment of his blade, 

And shouted ' Victory ! — 
Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on ! ' 

Were the last words of Marmion." 

Fitz Eustace buried his Lord in Litchfield Cathedral, whose triple 
spires and fair west front and general venerable beauty now delight 
us ; though many of its treasures of sculpture, like Marmion's 
tomb, were destroyed by the fanatics of the great Civil War. And 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 



53 



lastly of this Tale, we learn that De Wilton, by his bravery, " won his 
rank and lands again ; " and, after a ceremonial honored by th*" 
highest of the land, 

" For many a day, 
That it was held enough to say, 
In blessing to a wedded pair, 
* Love they like Wilton and like Clare I ' " 



VII. 

"The Lady of the Lake," 

O COTT'S most celebrated and beautiful poem, — considered as a 
*^ whole, — and his next poetic composition after "Marmion," was 
pubHshed in May, 1810. Its scene, he informs us, "is laid chiefly 
in the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western Highlands of Perth- 
shire. The time of Action includes Six Days, and the transactions 
of each day occupy a Canto." The period of this action is towards 
the middle of the sixteenth century. 

As stated in a former chapter, Scott visited this Highland region 
during the summer of 1809, when he verified recollections of it 
originating from excursions made repeatedly during years before, 
and when he learned more of its characteristics, — as, for instance, he 
galloped from Loch Vennachar to Stirling, in order to prove to him- 
self that a prominent person in the poem could accomplish the same 
journey within a certain represented time. His first visit to the 
lake scenery associated with The Lady was made, before 1790, under 
escort of an armed guard, when he was sent to enforce execution 
of a legal instrument on certain Maclarens, and is described by him 
in " Rob Roy," and by Mr. Lockhart, in chapter v. of " The Life." 

The scenery of no other composition by Scott is visited by so 
many travellers, and there are few poems associated with scenery 
so attractive as is this. Indeed, there are none of his works more 
vividly localized ; and, furthermore, there is scarcely, in this lan- 
guage, a poem, of like variety of scene, that equals " The Lady of 
"die Lake," in this locahzation. 

To visit its opening and chief and most known scenes, one goes 



54 



^'THE LADY OF THE LAKE: 



from Edinburgh or Glasgow, or almost anywhere else, by rail 
to Callander, and thence, by road, nine miles, to "the Trosachs," 
passing near many places introduced to a reader of the earlier por- 
tions of the poem, and reaching one of the most "story-book" of 
comfortable inns,— one built by Lord Willoughby D'Eresby, closely 
among the very shrines of Romance-land. This inn is called 
the Trosachs Hotel, and mercifully replaces a little house called 
the Ardcheanochrockan. It is a place from which one can most 
easily visit, not only Loch Katrine and Ellen's Isle, and other 
places haunted by the "Lady," but also " Glenfinlas," — scene 
of the ballad of that name, by Scott, — the Pass of Leni, and other 
scenes of the " Legend of Montrose," and the Clachanof Aberfoyle 
and Loch Ard, famous in " Rob Roy." Additional account of this 
region will be given in chapters xxiv. and xxi. relating to the two 
great novels just named. 

Almost every traveller, as of course, visits "the Trosachs," even 
if no other part of the Scotch Highlands. Indeed, some persons 
who have visited them speak as if they had " seen the localities of 
Scott's worksj" and, after dashing through Abbotsford, and, possi- 
bly, Dryburgh, as if they had left small portion of his " Enchanted 
Lands " unexplored. This Trosachs neighborhood, if no other part 
of these Lands, should be seen and felt, yet it is small part, in- 
deed, of the wide domain Scott's genius has won him. A Scotch 
guide-book (that ought to teach better) asserts that people would 
have sought this neighborhood very much as now, even if Scott had 
never written about it. People, however, did not visit it until he did 
write about it ; then, immediately, crowds resorted to it, and have 
since, continually. Any landsman could go to America after Colum- 
bus showed the way. 

This " Lady of the Lake " begins with " The Chase " of a " Knight 
of Snowdoun " and his companions, who, at sunrise, started a stag 
"in lone Glenartney's hazel shade " (a few miles from Callander, 
towards Comrie), whence this chase swept past "the heaths of 
Uam-Var " (a lofty mountain in sight northward), and thence, down- 
ward and westward, through Cambus-more, and over Bochastle 
Heath, and twice across " the flooded Teith," along the bank of 
which lies the traveller's road from Callander to the Trosachs. Of 
the hunters, — 

" Few were the stragglers, following far, 
That reach'd the Lake of Vennachar." 



'^THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 55 

near the calm waters, the open shores, and the broken, naked 
braes of which one next goes. Then one passes Lanrick-mead, 
a rather swamp-hke field beside the lake, — scene of later and more 
important action, the mustering of " Clan-Alpine's warriors true." 
Then " Duncraggan's Huts" appear, — low, thatched, and mossy, 
just high enough for use as human habitations, and graphically 
described later in the poem. Not far onward is the Brigg of Turk, 

— that the writer found a single, old, rough stone arch, retopped 
with modern masonry. At this bridge, when " The Chase " had 
reached thus far, — 

" The headmost horseman rode alone." 

Beyond it, however, he dashed, — past Loch Achray, — so exquis- 
itely sung of in the minstrel's lay of the " Battle of Beal' an Duine," 

— into the recesses of the Trosachs, perhaps the most intricate and 
charmingly picturesque defile in Scotland, as one may find, by ex- 
ploring it properly, not simply by riding through it in the omnibus, 
or walking over the carriage road. And there, — 

" stumbling in the rugged dell," 
The hunter's " horse exhausted fell." 
And " the good steed, his labors o'er, 
Stretch'd his stiff limbs, to rise no more." 

The poet's description of this romantic pass is very truthful and 
beautiful, showing it as it is beneath — 

" The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 
So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream." 

The features of the landscape, and of the lake views, next de- 
scribed, are not of great size. The pass is not as large or as grand 
as that at the White Hills, or Franconia, or Catskill, in America, and, 
of course, cannot be compared with Swiss passes. In America, the 
lake would be looked upon as a small thing, even compared with 
Winnipiseogee, or Horicon. But yet there is a fascination, a 
romance, investing these celebrated Scotch scenes, making one 
forget any deficiency in mere size. One can see their charms all 
at once, and love them, as one cannot that which is too large, too 
extended, to be thus embraced. Like most of the Scotch Highlands, 
the Trosachs should be seen during the latter part of summer, 
when the heather is covered with its purple flowers. This heather 
is the coronation robe of Scottish scenery, as is the autumnal 
foliage of the Northern American. The mountains around the 



56 '-THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

Trosachs rise loftily and closely, presenting true Scottish features 
of the more beautiful cast They are much varied by knolls and 
crags ; and although not acute and abrupt, like many Swiss moun- 
tains, they are seldom lumpish or ungraceful in outHne. Nearly 
bare of trees, except on their lower portions, they yet have softly 
toned green tints to their very summits. The foregrounds of views 
here, as in America, owe their chief beauty to the forests. This 
Trosachs valley — about a mile long, leading from comparatively 
open country past Loch Achray, and thence between high moun- 
tains to the shores of Loch Katrine — was, before the present road 
was built, rendered an intricate pass, indeed, by curious terraced 
piles of gray rock, tufted with the richest heather, that rise con- 
fusedly through it. One of these, " Rhoderick Dhu's Watch- 
tower," looking quite down upon the lake, is both precipitous and 
lofty. All around these piles and banks and mountain bases, 
light and graceful birches wave among dark-green, thickly growing 
oaks. The old path of " The Chase " appears to have been some- 
what north of the present carriage road. There is difficulty in 
tracing it now. It came down a narrow, sloping glen, where the 
Knight of Snowdoun lost his "gallant gray." He was obliged to 
climb one of the rocky crags on the lake-shore, in order to discover 
a way out of this " Troschen," — bristled territory, as it is in Eng- 
lish : and none can tell better than Scott what he saw thence ; for 
any ordinary mortal, attempting to rewrite Scott's description, will 
soon find Scott's superior abilities, and his truth and picturesque- 
ness and power. 

One may now look from some crag, as did the Knight of the 
Chase, and realize how 

"gleaming with the setting sun. 
One burnish'd sheet of living go d, 
Loch Katrine low beneath him roll'd, 
In all her length far winding lay, 
With promontory, creek, and bay; 
And Islands that, empurpled bright, 
Floated amid the livflier light ; 
And mountains, that like giants stand. 
To sentinel enchanted land. 
High on the south, huge Benvenue 
DowTi on the lake in masses threw 
Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurl'd. 
The fragments of an earlier world ; 
A wildering forest feather'd o'er 
His ruined sides and summit hoar; 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 5'; 

While on the north, through middle air, 
Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare." 

" From the steep promontory gazed 
The stranger raptured and amazed. 
And ' What a scene were here,' he cried, 
' For princely pomp, or churchman's pride 1 
On this bold brow, a lordly tower; 
In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 
On yonder meadow, far away, 
The turrets of a cloister gray.' " 

And thinking awhile thus, as this scene caused him to think, one 
may fancy, even now, that 

" hosts may in these wilds abound, 
Such as are better miss'd than found." 

To call, perhaps, some straggler of the hunting-party, the Knighl 
sounded his bugle. 

" But scarce again his horn he wound. 

When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 

From underneath an aged oak, 

That slanted from the islet rock, 

A damsel guider of its way, 

A little skiff shot to the bay." 
" The boat had touch'd " the "silver strand. 

Just as the Hunter left his stand. 

And stood conceal'd amid the brake, 

To view this Lady of the Lake." 

" And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 
Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 
What though the sun, with ardent frown, 
Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — 
The sportive toil, which, short and light, 
Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. 
Served too, in hastier swell, to show 
Short glimpses of a breast of snow ; 
What though no rule of courtly grace 
To measured mood had trained her pace, — 
A foot more light, a step more true. 
Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew ; 
E'en the slight harebell raised its head, 
Elastic from her airy tread : 
What though upon her speech there hung 
The accents of the mountain tongue, -- 
Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear. 
The list'ner held his breath to hear 1 " 



58 ''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

The poet tells more about this very interesting young lady, whom 
the traveller, quite possibly with longings that cannot be uttered or 
realized, can but imagine issuing from the little shaded bay. She 
called to know whose was the blast, when 

" ' A stranger I,' the Huntsman said. 
Advancing from the hazel shade." 

Naturally alarmed, she withdrew to a safe distance ; and then 

" She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 

Not his the form, nor his the eye, 

That youthful maidens wont to fly. 

On his bold visage middle age 

Had slightly press'd its signet sage, 

Yet had not quench'd the open truth 

And fiery vehemence of youth ; 

Forward and frolic glee was there, 

The will to do, the soul to dare, 

The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 

Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 

His limbs were cast in manly mould, 

For hardy sports or contest bold ; 

And though in peaceful garb array'd. 

And weaponless, except his blade. 

His stately mien as well implied 

A high-born heart, a martial pride, 

As if a Baron's crest he wore." 
" He told of his benighted road ; " 

and the fair lady, assured either by his good looks or words, con- 
sented to take him 

" To yon lone isle," her " desert home." 

It is a little island, but very famous in Romance-land as "Ellen's 
Isle ; " for Ellen, as almost everybody knows, was the name of 
tlie Lady of the Lake. The Knight, allowed a seat in her boat, 
soon rowed to it. 

A delightful excursion may be made during fair weather now, by 
taking a boat at the landing in the narrow inlet near the isle, and 
being rowed to it and to other spots, — notwithstanding that the 
semi-Gaelic boatmen, though they speak the verses of Scott, after 
the style of the Tasso-rehearsing Venetian gondohers, may not be 
indisputably romantic in their general characteristics ; and even 
may cause travellers to feel that, though Highland caterans of the 
reaving days are gone, their descendants, by ostensibly peaceful 
demands upon the purse and temper, effect nearly the same results 
as those achieved by the prowess of their ancestors. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE: 



59 



Times are changed, but the old spirit seems to live. These are, 
however, of the experiences the traveller must endure philosophi- 
cally, and use here as suggestive of the former dwellers in this 
land, whom the Knight of Snowdoun did not wish to meet, and who, 
i1 is said, gave their not purely glorious title — cateran, or freebooter 
— to the Loch itself 

A boat from the inlet — an exquisite sylvan bay — crosses a 
more open portion of the lake, and thus approaches the isle. This 
is rather high, and irregularly pyramidal. It is mostly composed 
of dark-gray rocks, mottled with pale and gray lichens, peeping out 
here and there amid trees that mantle them, — chiefly light, grace- 
ful birches, intermingled with red-berried mountain ashes and a 
few dark-green, spiry pines. The landing is beneath an aged oak ; 
and, as did the Lady and the Knight, the traveller now ascends 

" A clambering, unsuspected road," 

l)y rude steps, to the small irregular summit of the island. A more 
poetic, romantic retreat could hardly be imagined : it is unique. 
It is completely hidden, not only by the trees, but also by an under- 
growth of beautiful and abundant ferns and the lovehest of heather. 
The boatmen, queerly talking Sir Walter's poetry, point out the 
places mentioned in the poem, as if the most completely authen- 
ticated historical sites, and the visitor feels as if they tell facts 
rather than fictions, — and indeed these are as reliable as some 
matters current for facts. Looking a little diagonally, across from 
the island landing-place, one sees, at a moderate height and immedi- 
ately above the water, a bare bit of cliff, of the prevailing gray rock, 
draped exquisitely with purple heather, and overhung by tremulous 
birches. This is the "airy point" on which the Knight blew his 
bugle. Directly below it is pointed out the inlet, not far from the 
island, whence Ellen's " skiif shot to the bay." Farther east is 
shown the narrow glen where the " gallant gray " was lost ; and, 
yet farther, other places made celebrated by the poem. 
On the island-summit, the Lady ushered the Knight into 

" a lodge of ample size, 
But strange of structure and device." 

Lord or Lady Willoughby D'Eresby erected here a rustic bower 
in imitation of it. This bower was accidentally burned several 
years ago, and had not been replaced when the writer visited its 
site. To the Knight, thus ushered in. 



bo " TEE LADY OF THE LAKE.** 

" The mistress of the mansion came. 
Mature of age, a graceful dame ; 
Whose easy step and stately port 
Had well become a princely court." 

She welcomed her guest with Highland hospitality : 

" Such then the reverence to a guest, 
That fellest foe might join the feast, 
And from his deadliest foeman's door 
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er." 

He gave his name, though unasked, — 

*' ' The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James ; 
Lord of a barren heritage, 
Which his brave sires, from age to age, 
By their good swords had held with toil.' " 

Telling how he came to be at the isle, he endeavored to learn who 
these evidently high-born ladies were, dweUing thus secluded ; but 
they only said, 

" ' Weird women we ! by dale and down 
We dwell, afar from tower and town. 
We stem the flood, we ride the blast. 
On wandering knights our spells we cast.' " 

Cheered by good fare and music, and especially by such society, 
"Fitz-James remained on the island. At night he slept in the hall, 
upon a bed of heather. There he dreamed variedly and delight- 
fully, when 

" At length, with Ellen in a grove 
He seem'd to walk, and speak of love. 
She listen'd with a blush and sigh." 

But a certain sad "change came o'er the spirit of" the "dream," 
so that 

*' He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. 
The wild-rose, eglantine, and broom 
Wasted around their rich perfume ; 
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm. 
The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 
The silver light, with quivering glance, 
Play'd on the water's still expanse, — 
Wild were the heart whose passions' sway 
Could rage beneath the sober ray I 
He felt its calm." 

But the Knight was then, as during all his visit, haunted by thoughts 
of a certain exiled noble family, the Douglas. At length, however, 
after prayers, he again retired to rest, and slept till " morning 
dawned on Benvenue." 



" THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 6 1 

Early he departed, hearing the harp and song of the aged Min- 
strel of the Isle, "the white-hair'd Allan-Bane." Reaching "the 
mainland side," he cast backward "ahngering look," and beheld 
Ellen sitting beside the minstrel 

" Upon a rock with lichens wild.'" 
" While 3'et he loiter'd on the spot, 

It seem'd as Ellen markM him not ; 

But when he turn'd him to the glade, 

One courteous parting sign she made ; 

And after, oft the Knight would say, 

That not when prize of festal day 

Was dealt him by the brightest fair. 

Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, 

So highly did his bosom swell 

As at that simple, mute farewell." 

One can but recall all these delightful experiences of the Knight, 
since ramblers in wild places are not often rewarded as he was ; 
and even on this isle, one is not now so liable to encounter such a 
Beauty, that one can fail recall these visions of the charming Ellen. 
The Knight went his way, with a trusty guide ; the minstrel sang 
heroically at his mistress's bidding, and then talked with her on 
great affairs that concerned her. After a while, quite a different 
sort of scene ensued. A distant pibroch was heard, and 

" Far up the lengthen'd lake were spied 
Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
That, slow enlarging on the view. 
Four mann'd and masted barges grew ; 
And, bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
Steer'd full upon the lonely isle," 

bearing Sir Roderick Vich Alpine, beneath his pine-tree banner, 
and with him a large company of his clansmen singing the famous 
boat-song, beginning, 

" Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances 
Honor'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine 
Long may the tree, on his banner that glances. 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line I 
Heaven send it happy dew, 
Earth lend it sap anew, 
Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow ; 
While every Highland glen 
Sends our shout back agen, 
* Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe I ' " 



62 ''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

The mistress of the isle, " Lady Margaret," with her attendants, 
welcomed the Highland lord when he approached ; and she bade 
the reluctant Ellen " to greet " him " ere he landed." Just then, 
however, the young lady heard a " signal blast," in response to 
which she went in her boat to the bay where the Knight met her. 
There she was embraced by Lord Douglas, her father ; and there, 
also she was met (but less demonstratively) by Malcolm Gr£eme, 
a very gallant young man, with whom, privately, she was decid- 
edly in love. The three went to the Isle, and met Sir Roderick, 
already there. He was a powerful and not very docile man, loving 
Ellen inconveniently, and favored by her mother. Of course he 
was not delighted at sight of the Graeme, but he concealed his 
feelings. Soon, in rather a public and blunt manner, he asked the 
hand of the Lady of the Lake. He gave some reasons of policy, 
important in his estimation, why he should have it ; showing how, 
to the yet mighty though exiled Douglas, leagued with him, would 
"friends and allies flock anew," and a great deal would be gained, 
by war, for the Highlanders over their hereditary enemies, — the 
King's subjects in the Lowlands, and the " tyrant of the Scottish 
throne," himself. Ellen knew there was danger to her father, if she 
refused, and thought 

" To buy his safety with her hand." 

The " Douglas mark'd the hectic strife. 

Where death seem'd combating with life." 
" ' Roderick, enough ! enough ! ' he cried ; 

' My daughter cannot be thy bride.' " 
" ' O seek the grace you well may find, 

Without a cause to mine combined.' " 

On the Chieftain's " darken'd brow," 

" wounded pride 
With ire and disappointment vied ; " 
" But, unrequited Love ! thy dart 

Plunged deepest its envenom'd smart." 

Tears, even, fell from his eyes that " mocked at tears before ; " and 
then, at last, "fierce jealousy" burst forth. He understood all. 
Instantly he was quarrelling with Malcolm. The father separated 
them, exclaiming, 

" What ! is the Douglas fall'n so far, 
His daughter's hand is doom'd the spoil 
Of such dishonorable broil ! " 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 63 

Parted thus, Malcolm prepared to leave ; Roderick remained, — 
using towards him insulting language, portion of the former's an- 
swer to which we may well remember while at Loch Katrine : 

" The spot an angel deign'd to grace 

Is bless'd, though robbers haunt the place." 

Malcolm departed, saying to the family that he would meet them 
again, and diiferently than he would meet the Chieftain. He bade 
the aged minstrel farewell, and soon swam to the mainland shore. 

The Third Canto is entitled " The Gathering." It begins with 
a beautiful picture of the morning of the third day of the continuous 
action of the poem ; and Scott has presented us with few more 
exquisitely serene and peaceful scenes more truly natural and ani- 
mated. But no repose of the material world influenced the High- 
land chief 

" No thought of peace, no thought of rest, 
Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast." 

He determined that traditional and dreadful rites should be per- 
formed ; and that then the " Cross of Fire" — the Highland sum- 
mons to arms — should flash through the lands of Clan-Alpine. 
These rites were enacted with the awing accessories of superstition ; 
and Roderick despatched a henchman, Malise, with the " dread 
sign " of instant call to war, bidding him speed and summon all 
who owned the Chieftain's allegiance : 

" ' The muster-place be Lanrick-mead — 
Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed ! ' " 

Deadliest curses and imprecations were pronounced upon any one 
who failed to duly heed this sign. And with it, away the swift 
messenger dashed, — " each son of Alpine " rushing to arms as the 
alarm reached him. Along Loch Achray the fiery summons passed. 
At Duncraggan's huts, they encountered th*e funeral of an aged 
Duncan ; but, for the sign of war, his son Angus must leave his 
bier. Then 

" Benledi saw the Cross of Fire ; 

It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
O'er dale and hill the summons flew," 

until they reached the Chapel of Saint Bride, " where Teith's 
young waters roll ; " where " Norman, heir of Armandave," was 
being married to " Tombea's Mary." But he must leave his bride, 
take the cross, and hurry it on. 



6^ ''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

" In haste he sped," 

" Nor backward glanced, till on the heath 
Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith." 

And thus onward flew the " dread sign," past the Braes of Bal 
quidder, and 

" Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad, 
Till rose in arms each man might claim 
A portion in Clan- Alpine's name." 

The scenery through which this once customary, rousing, and 
dread alarm coursed is of the most interesting in the Highlands. 
It extends through the Trosachs, and along Lochs Achray and 
Vennachar, and up the Pass of Leni, — grand in features of lake 
and mountain, — and thus into the heart of the hill country. The 
tourist will find it well worth exploring from the Trosachs Inn or 
Callander. 

Meanwhile Roderick Dhu, reconnoitring the lands of the enemy 
against whom this muster was made, had 

" Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, 
And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath 
To view the frontiers of Menteith," 

a wide overlook of which — the Lowlands, in fact — is to be had 
from the hills ranging eastward from Benvenue, between Achray 
and Aberfoyle. Meanwhile, also, Douglas had retired from the 
Isle to Coir-nan-Uriskin, or the Goblin's Cave, — a deep cleft, or 
corry, in that side of Benvenue nearly fronting the Isle. 

" It was a wild and strange retreat. 
As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet." 

Evening found the Chieftain thinking more of his love for Ellen 
than for his assembled clan, though that very morning he 

" had proudly sworn 
To drown his love in war's wild roar ; " 
" But he who stems a stream with sand. 
And fetters flame with flaxen band, 
Has yet a harder task to prove — 
By firm resolve to conquer love 1 " 

Wandering on the lake shore, he heard the minstrelsy of Allan- 
Bane, while " Ellen, or an angel, sang" a beautiful vesper hymn to 
the Holy Virgin. 

Early next day Malise appeared to Roderick, announcing the 
important tidings, that Royal forces were preparing to invade the 
glens. The women and those unfit for arms, with all the boats of 



-THE LADY OF THE LAKEV 65 

the region, had already (by the Chieftain's care) been collected at 
the isle, for security. Under Roderick's auspices, Brian, a wild 
sort of irregular priest, after superstitious rites, proj^hesied 

" Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 
That party conquers in the strife." 

Of course, he was thanked by Roderick for so complimentary and 
propitious an augury. Meanwhile Ellen (who was near the cave) 
was solicitously talking with her confidant, the aged harper. She 
was apprehensive for the safety of her father and of Malcolm Graeme 
To soothe her, 

" The Minstrel tried his simple art, 
But distant far was Ellen's heart." 

He sang to her that sparkling ballad, " Alice Brand," beginning 

" Merry it is in the good greenwood, 

When the mavis and merle are singing ; 
When the deer .sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry, 
And the hunter's horn is ringing." 

Just at the ending of the song, appeared, most unexpectedly, the 
Knight of Snowdoun. He came to lead her, as his own, 

*' From frantic scenes of feud and war " 

even " to Stirling gate." Ellen did not long hesitate. She told 
her story, — that with her " 'twere infamy to wed," her father being 
'' outlawed and exiled ; " and that, in short, she loved another. 

" Hope vanish'd from Fitz- James's eye, 
But not with hope fled sympathy." 

He offered to assist her ; but she declined, saying, 

" Safer for both we go apart" 

She knew the complications about entangling her and her friends. 
Fitz-James, with kind, parting words, put on Ellen's finger a ring 
that he said had been given him by the Scottish monarch, with a 
promise that by it he could " boldly claim " of Majesty whatever 
favor he would name. Then he quickly departed, with an attend- 
ant guide, going along the way of the stream that "joins Loch 
Katrine to Achray." 

His guide, Murdoch of Alpine, a treacherous rascal, got him 
ensnared in the wilds of the Trosachs, where he came upor 
Blanche, of Devan-side (a romantic ravine and vale eastward of 
Stirling). She was 

5 



66 '* THE LADY OF THE LAKE." 

" A crazed and captive Lowland maid, 
Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, 
When Roderick foray 'd Devan-side." 

She was even then imagining herself occupied in the bridal festivn- 
ties ; and she sang a song that, with other intimations, caused 
Fitz-James to demand of his guide, whom he had already distrusted, 

" * Disclose thy treachery, or die ! '•" 

Murdoch for reply endeavored to shoot the Knight ; but his shaft 
glanced, and pierced Blanche instead. He fled, pursued by the 
Knight, who soon bent over him " with falcon eye," and 

" grimly smiled to see him die." 

Then the Knight returned to 

" Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 
She sate beneath the birchen-tree, 
Her elbow resting on her knee." 

Fatally wounded, she, however, told her sad story, and warned him 
of ambuscades and dangers besetting his way. He determined to 
avenge her wrongs on Roderick Dhu, who had done them. 

" A lock from Blanche's tresses fair, 
He blended with her bridegroom's hair ; 
The mingled braid in blood he dyed," 

trowing to imbrue it 

" In the best blood of Roderick Dhu ! " 

But shouts and signals, that he heard not long afterward, made 
him realize that he must extricate himself from "this Highland 
hornet's nest." And forthwith he began an attempt at escape. 

" The shades of eve came slowly down, 
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown, 
The owl awakens from her dell, 
The fox is heard upon the fell ; 
Enough remains of glimmering light 
To guide the wanderer's steps aright. 
Yet not enough from far to show 
His figure to the watchful foe." 

" Through ways unknown, 
Tangled and steep, he journeyed on ; 
Till, as a rock's huge point he tuni'd, 
A watch-fire close before him burn'd." 

The scenes that ensue are some of the most dramatic and charac- 
teristic in the poem. The Knight, although he boldly declared him- 



" THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 67 

self an enemy to Roderick " and all his band," was received with 
Highland hospitality by a mountaineer encamped beside the fire, 
who assured him, 

*' rest thee here till dawn of day ; 
Myself will guide thee on thy way, 
O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 
Till past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard, 
As far as Coilantogle's ford ; 
From thence thy warrant is thy sword." 

And thus, through the night, these men rested. Early in the 
morning they went on to the ford at the outlet of Loch Vennachar, 
at its eastern end, about two and a half miles from Callander. 
Of course, they talked on the way thither. Thus, at length, the 
Knight came to declare, in his indignation against the destroyers 
of Blanche, — 

" ' Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen 
In peace ; but when I come agen, 
I come with banner, brand, and bow, 
As leader seeks his mortal foe. 
For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, 
Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, 
As I, until before me stand 
This rebel Chieftain and his band.' " 

Then the mountaineer created that startling realization of the 
Knight's desire, — shown in Scott's most vivid verse. 

" ' Have, then, thy wish ! ' — He whistled shrill. 

And he was answer'd from the hill ; 

Wild as the scream of the curlew. 

From crag to crag the signal flew. 

Instant, through copse and heath, arose 

Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; 

On right, on left, above, below. 

Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 

From shingles gray their lances start, 

The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 

The rushes and the willow-wand 

Are bristling into axe and brand. 

And every tuft of broom gives life 

To plaided warrior arm'd for strife. 

That whistle gairison'd the glen 

At once with full five hundred men." 
" The Mountaineer cast glance of pride 

Along Benledi's living side. 

Then fix'd his eye and sable brow 

Full on Fitz- James. — ' How say'st thou now? 

These are Clan- Alpine's warriors true ; 

And. Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu 1 ' " 



68 ^'THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

There are not a few spots, easily reached by walking from the 
Trosachs Inn, where one can readily conjure up this scene just 
sketched, pronounced by one reviewer the chef d cetivre "of the 
great author," " a scene of more vigor, nature, and animation, than 
any other in all his poetry." And other persons give it even higher 
praise. One, rambling through the glens and over the hillsides of 
this wild, romantic, and secluded region, can but realize the power 
of Walter Scott. In such places he is most enjoyed^ Those 
ancient portions of towns to which his works refer are often so 
changed from what they were in the times of which he wrote that 
romance seems to have almost left them ; but, as here, among the 
hills, the rocks and the mists, the heather and the forest, the spells 
of the Great Magician still hold their own grounds enchanted. One 
can survey these tracts now, wild and lonely, as in Roderick's time. 
Simple-featured they may be, yet charmingly picturesque, from 
lightest tree-top to the dark iron-gray rocks, mottled with their 
paler gray lichens. And there is a sweep and even vastness of 
extent in these Highland landscapes of solitary country, unlike any 
thing else in Britain, or even broad Europe or America. It is no 
strong stretch of imagination to feel as if another whistle might 
wake again chieftain and clansmen from behind the thickets of little 
graceful birches scattered along the stream courses, or from the 
shelter of the rocks, or profuse tufted heather or patches of whin, or 
the many hollows and crannies in the rough hill-sides. One can 
find all these features on the road from the Trosachs across the 
heights to Aberfoyle, — a wild, breezy, invigorating region for a 
walk during a bright summer day. 

Roderick Dhu, whatever his failings, had little of the meanness 
and treachery of a certain sort of " Southern chivalry." He took 
no advantage of his enemy. He waved back his almost m.agically 
risen clan. 

'* It seem'd as if their mother Earth 
Had swallow'd up her warlike birth." 

Satisfied apparently with the impression of his power that he had 
given, he conducted Fitz-James to the ford. They passed upon the 
heath of Bochastle, 

" the mouldering lines, 
Where Rome, the Empress of the world, 
Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd." 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 69 



Then they stopped at the ford, Roderick saying, 



Each had 



' Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 

Vich- Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan, 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 

Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 

Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 

See here, all vantageless I stand, 

Arm'd, like thyself, with single brand: 

For this is Coilantogle ford. 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword.' " 

The stern joy which warriors feel 
In foemen worthy of their steel ; " 



and each fought boldly, desperately, until the Chief lay almost dying 
before the Knight, who dipped the braid of hair in his blood. 

" Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid," 

her avenger could but say. Then came four squires of the Knight. 
Two of them, by his direction, attended the wounded man, and 
placed him upon the palfrey " destined for a fairer freight ; " while, 
with the other two, Fitz-James dashed away to meet early engage- 
ments at Stirhng. Their course is shown, in another passage 
of Scott'S capital topographic poetry, until 

" the bulwark of the North, 
Grey Stirling, with her towers and town, 
Upon their fleet career look'd down." 

Ascending to the upper or castellated portion of the town, — for 
Stirling, like Edinburgh, has at its end a height crowned by a castle 
dominant over all around it, — the Knight spied a stout gray woods- 
man also ascending. 

" ' 'Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! ' '* 

he exclaimed, 

" ' The uncle of the banish'd Earl. 
Away, away, to court, to show 
The near approach of dreaded foe. 
The King must stand upon his guard.' " 

Stirling, in which the further action of the poem is represented, 
is an interesting city, visited by many travellers, and one that 
should be visited by all. It is accessible by rail in an hour or two 
from either Edinburo^h or Glass^ovv. As remarked, it resembles 



70 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE: 



Edinburgh in arrangement. Its ground form is rather wedge- 
shaped. The point is the castle-hill. The broad side is covered 
by wider or narrower streets, having houses not averaging mod- 
ern.. The end is in abrupt banks or precipices on three sides 
of the ancient fortress. This fortress is one of the four to be 
kept always in repair and garrisoned according to the terms of 
the " Union " of Scotland with England. The other three are 
Blackness, on the Firth of Forth ; Dumbarton, on the Clyde ; 
and Edinburgh. So that, although antiquated and indeed almost 
useless as a stronghold now, Stirling Castle will continue to 
present a military aspect. No one obtaining view of the wide 
panoramic landscape occasionally visible from it can reasonably 
regret effort to that effect. This landscape is one of the very noblest 
in Britain. It is one of the glories of Scotland, ranging, as it does, 
over the broad, rich plains of Stirling, Fife, and Perth shires ; the 
mountains of the Lake districts ; the Braes of Doune ; and the 
Ochil Hills ; and for miles along the windings of the Forth towards 
" Auld Reekie ; " and over many celebrated spots, including the 
field of Bannockburn. This last, as it seemed when pointed out to 
the writer, appears to be a not very large, oblong, cultivated area, 
with trees at three angles. It is the chief closing scene in " The 
Lord of the Isles " (chapter xiii.). The castle buildings are, possi- 
bly, more picturesque than the group forming Edinburgh Castle, 
and of a sombre, dark-gray color, thus harmonizing with much of 
the rock on which they stand. Most of these buildings are of stone. 
Some are " rough cast," including the oldest portions, that are on the 
side of the principal terrace, and also the ancient parhamentary 
buildings. The great entrance is at the upper side of a parade- 
ground or open space ; and through a deep, 'heavy archway, flanked 
by a tower on either side, and, before these, by old walls protected 
in front by modern defensive works. Within, one is shown James 
V.'s quadrangular palace, — a curiously decorated structure, hav- 
ing along each side, upon consoles, a row of statues more fantastic 
than classic. Perhaps the chief artificial " sight " is the " Douglas 
Room," — a modern "restoration," brilliant with fresh wood, and 
stone carving, and bright gilding, coloring, and varnishing. It has 
diaper-panelled wainscoting, and a curious stone arch opening to the 
"Star Chamber," — an uncommonly odd, small room, with a no- 
ticeably elaborated wood cornice, and a door opening to a nar- 
row, short, straight stair, leading to a secret room of James V. 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE." yi 

Thence by another stair, also private, that King was wont to sally 
out on adventures, as the "gudeman of Ballangeich " (of which 
more hereafter). In this Star Chamber, we are told, James II. 
stabbed an Earl of Douglas, whose body was then thrown from the 
one little window of the private room into the garden below it. The 
visitor is also shown an armory, "John Knox's pulpit," a hat of 
Cromwell, and other miscellanies, besides the " hon's den," where 
tropical animals of the leonine sort were once kept ; only Scotch 
lions are to be seen there now. 

As the story of the poem continues, it shows us the venerable royal 
town in its gayest holiday aspect. The King himself (enthusi- 
astically welcomed by the people) attended sports of archery and 
wrestling and coursing there, when suddenly the Douglas appeared, 
— " the Douglas, doom'd of old." There was immediate uproar. 
The sports were broken off; but the yet powerful lord appeased 
the people, allayed the tumult, and then departed to the Castle. 

" 111 with King James's mood that day, 
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay." 

There were talks of " civil jar, of rumor'd feuds and mountain 
war." By evening reports ominous of evil began to spread 

" Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore." 

Indeed, 

" The evening sunk in sorrow down." 

The sixth and last Canto and day of action open in the Castle 
Guard-room, where the variously assorted royal men-at-arms 

" held debate of bloody fray, 
Fought 'twixt Loch Katrine and Achray," 

and where they, furthermore, were singing and drinking, when 
"old Bertram," a Flemish soldier of Ghent, arrived with "a maid 
and minstrel," The two were being rudely received by the martial 
worthies, when Bertram, who had been in the fight, informed that, 
after it, these had sought the royal line ; and that they were at 
Stirling, by the Earl of Mar's direction. They were none other 
than Allan-Bane and Ellen. The Captain of the men coming soon, 
Ellen had opportunity for sending to the King the ring she had 
received, — 

" Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James." 

Ellen was fitly conducted away by the Captain ; while one " John 
of Brent," in answer to Allan's request to see his master, conducted 



7 2 " THE LADY OF THE LAKEr 

him to a cell ; where he found, not the Douglas, but Roderick Dhu, 
lying sorely wounded. The Chieftain spoke with him of the fight, 
and of each Douglas, and bade him sing 

" That stirring air that peals on high, 
O'er Dermid's race our victory." 

And then he added, 

" Fling me the picture of the hght, 
When met my clan the Saxon might." 

Accordingly, the aged Bard sang the Lay, " Battle of Beal' an 
Duine ; " or a minstrel's story of the conflict between royal forces 
and Clan-Alpine summoned, as told, by the fiery cross. The 
introduction to this metrical battle-piece is a capital example of 
Scott's picturing by words. It is also a passage intensely charac- 
teristic of him, — perhaps no one of about its length is equally so 
His strong love of natural beauty, and exquisite perception of it, 
especially as shown in his native land ; his sympathies for High- 
land lord and clan ; his enthusiasm for the pomp and spirit of 
feudal war ; his individuality as a representative man of his age, 
shown by Ruskin, in " exactly expressing that degree of feeling with 
which most men in this century can sympathize," — all are ex- 
hibited in this introduction. 

" The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 
For, ere he parted, he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — 
Where shall he find, in foreign land, 
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! 
There is no breeze upon the fern, 

No ripple on the lake, 
Upon her eyry nods the erne. 

The deer has sought the brake ; 
The small birds will not sing aloud, 

The springing trout lies still. 
So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud. 
That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 

Benledi's distant hill. 
Is it the thunder's solemn sound 

That mutters deep and dead, 
Or echoes from the groaning gmund 

The warrior's measured tread? 
Is it the lightning's quivering glance 

That on the thicket streams, 
Or do they flash on spear and lance 
The sun's retiring beams? 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE." 73 

— I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
I see the Moray's silver star, 
Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, 
That up the lake comes winding far I 
To hero bound for battle-strife, 

Or bard of martial lay, 
'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 

One glance at their array ! " 

This lay shows how the battle swept through the Trosachs and 
along the shores of Katrine ; how Highland women defended the 
isle successfully ; and how the conflict was stayed when a herald 
forbade it, with announcement that its issues were decided, — 

" Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold, 
Were both, he said, in captive hold." 

But as the last notes of the Bard ceased, a nearer change came. 
The Chieftain's face grew sharp, his hands clenched, his teeth set : 

*' Thus motionless, and moanless, drew 
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu ! " 

And not long thereafter, old Allan-Bane was singing lament lor 
\.\\i dead. Meanwhile Ellen, "in lordly bower apart," heard other 
sirging from a turret near by, — the "Lay of the Imprisoned 
Huntsman." It was a " heart-sick lay." We can easily fancy who 
sang it. As il ceased, a light 

*' footstep struck her ear, 
" And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near." 

She welcomed him ; and he, now in his turn, became her guide, — 
not to any wild retreat, but to the King, who, that morning, in the 
Presence Chamber, held court ; and he promised to aid her suit 
with Majesty for her father, whom she supposed to be then a 
prisoner in the Castle. 

The Knight conducted her to the very centre of a brilliant com- 
pany of courtiers, on whose splendors she hardly could gaze ; and 
yet she g^zed, though fearfully, — 

" For him she sought, who own'd this state, 
The dreaded prince whose will was fate- 
She gazed on many a princely port. 
Might well have ruled a royal court ; 
On many a splendid garb she gazed, 
Then tum'd bewilder'd and amazed, 
For all stood bare ; and, in the room, 
Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 



74 



''THE LADY OF THE LAKE:' 

To him each lady's look was lent ; 

On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 

Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen, 

He stood, in simple Lincoln green, 

The centre of the glittering ring. 

And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King ! " 

The apartment in which this delightful surprise occurred must 
like other scenes in this canto, be imagined rather in the busy 
chambers of the mind, than in " Stirling's bowers," so changed are 
they from the times of this King, — James V. Yet one can there 
— or almost anywhere else — recall with uncommon pleasure the 
ending of this last scene of this charming poem. 

Ellen, who had kneeled at the monarch's feet, to ask her father's 
life, and had been raised by the King, learned that " yester even, 
his prince and he " had " much forgiven ; " and that he was thence- 
forth owned 

" The friend and bulwark of" the " Throne." 

The reinstated Douglas and his daughter met. 

" The monarch drank, that happy hour, 
The sweetest, holiest draught of Power." 

Then of Ellen the monarch asked what she sought to claim by 
the ring she held — pledge of his faith. We know her heart, as 

" to her generous feeling true, 
She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu." 

She learned his end, as the King asserted, — 

*' ' My fairest earldom would I give 
To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain Hve ! — 
Hast thou no other boon to crave ? ' '* 

Ellen, blushing, gave the ring to her father, as if desirii g him to 
speak, when King James closed the scene, exclaiming, 



to' 



' Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force. 
And stubborn justice holds her course. — 
Malcolm, come forth ! ' — And, at the word, 
Down kneel'd the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. 
' For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues. 
From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
Who, nurtured underneath our smile, 
Hast paid our care by treacherous wile. 
And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 
A refuge for an outlaw'd man. 
Dishonoring thus thy loyal name. — 
Fetters and warder for the Graeme 1 ' — 



" THE VISION OF DON RODERICK^ 75 

His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, 
Then gently drew the glittering band. 
And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand." 

Thus ends this poem, and the poet sings, — 

" Harp of the North, farewell," — " Enchantress, fare thee well !" 

— a poem not of the subhmest order of high art perhaps, but a 
chivalrous poem, teUing of chivalrous character in many ranks, 
from the Highland clansman to the generous, magnanimous, manly 
King — the poet's self as much as James V. ; — a poem that is one 
of the most delightful in literature, than which there is none more 
exquisitely picturesque, none haunting more fascinatingly the fair 
scenes of nature in which its action is chiefly laid, — a poem genial 
and noble in spirit as was its author, genial as the sunlight and the 
summer breeze on the heathery banks and quiet waters of Katrine ; 
whose enchanted region, long as it endures, will be fondly associ- 
ated with memories of Sir Walter Scott, and his fairest creation, — 
" The Lady of the Lake." 



VIII. 

"The Vision of Don Roderick." 

TOURING 1811, the next year after the appearance of "The 
-^-^ Lady of the Lake," Scott, then forty years old, among vari- 
ous minor works, published " The Vision of Don Roderick," one 
of the less important of his poems. It has less story, less localiza- 
tion, less exhibition of character, than is usual in his works. And 
yet, its Spenserian verse gives it a grander style of its own, and 
distinguishes it from most of his other poetry. 

The general scene of this poem is near the ancient city Toledo, 
in Spain, and there shows that vision of Don Roderick the Goth, 
in which " his nation's future fate a Spanish King " beheld, through 
periods when Arabs controlled the country ; or when, in turn, it 
controlled almost the world, and, after various changes, passed 
the crisis when the famous British Peninsular Army victoriously 
expelled the invaders directed by Napoleon. Indeed, the poem 



tji) ''THE VISION OF DON RODERICKS 

chiefly recalls those famous campaigns contemporaneous with its 
composition, and especially does it in its motive, — for it was writ- 
ten to benefit a fund in aid of Portuguese sufferers by the war. 
There is thus a deal of pecuhar credit belonging to this work. 

Railways now render so much of Old Spain so comfortably acces- 
sible, that many travellers are likely to visit Toledo, placed nearly 
at the exact geographical centre of the country, and to such an 
extent abounding in rehcs of many past ages as to equal, or almost 
surpass, any other Peninsular city, as a scene for a vision showing 
the long, eventful course of Spanish history. 

Scarcely any thing, other than actual view, can more vividly show 
the general aspect of Toledo than do the opening lines of this 
poem. Well might the " Monthly Review," when quoting them, 
assert, that " scarcely any poet, of any age or country, has excelled 
Mr. Scott in bringing before our sight the very scene he is describing, 

— in giving a reality of existence to every object on which he 
dwells." The poet never saw this city, but how graphic does the 
traveller there find these opening lines ! — 

" Rearing their crests amid the cloudless skies, 
And darkly clustering in the pale moonlight, 
Toledo's holy towers and spires arise, 

As from a trembling lake of silver white." 
"All sleeps in sullen shade, or silver glow, 
All save the heavy swell o Teio's ceaseless flow." 

Out of the wide, bare, mountain country, and above the curving 
river, high on its steep and rocky hills we see the ancient city rise, 

— its dwellings and lesser works crowned by its mighty square 
Alcazar, towering, pinnacled Cathedral, Arabic turrets or portals, 
and Christian spires ; while the clear air, brightening all, brings 
softly to our ears sounds of quiet life, toned by frequent and varied 
notes of seemingly numberless consecrated bells. 

The numerous wonders of Toledo are adequately described 
by two or three excellent Enghsh guide-books, and by these trav- 
ellers can be well directed to its Arabic houses, baths, and arches ; 
to its marvellous San Juan de los Reyes, — the "Henry VII. 
chapel" of Spain ; to all its picturesqueness and antiquities ; and, 
chiefest of all, to its sublimely superb Cathedral, that, unravaged, 
and retaining accumulated treasures of centuries, realizes, as does 
scarcely another, the richest, stateliest art of the Middle Ages 
and of the Pointed Style. The sumptuous portals, the five vast 
aisles, the grand cloisters, the lavishly decorated chapels — espe- 



SCOTT'S LIFE, — 1S0A-1SV2. 



// 



cially th^ astonishing Capilla Mayor — of this church show, as 
scarcely, elsewhere is shown, the religious pomp of the times of 
their origin, and of the period when Spain, with " wealth of Ormus " 
and "of Ind," ruled half the world. Truly there is enough beside 
" Don Roderick " to take travellers to Toledo, and pleasantly they 
may there read or remember Scott's verses, and the Vision of the 



IX. 

Scott's Life, — 1804-1812. 

TOURING the period 1804 to 1812, Scott was rapidly shaping 
-^-^ his name and fame and personal story, — all the while occu- 
pied with literary, professional, social, or public affairs. In the 
year 1804 he removed from Lasswade Cottage to Ashestiel House, 
a more commodious and pleasant residence upon the Tweed, about 
half a dozen miles above Selkirk, and the same distance below 
Innerleithen. Ashestiel has long been strictly private. It is de- 
scribed in chapter xxxi., when the traveller is led to its neighbor- 
hood in search of Saint Ronan's Well. Until May, 1812, when 
Scott removed to Abbotsford, he held and occupied Ashestiel under 
lease, and there wrote the larger portion of the great poems already 
sketched upon these pages, and edited " Dryden " (18 vols., 8vo), and 
the " Somers " (13 vols., 4to) and " Sadler's " Papers (3 vols., 4to). 

In 1805 he visited Cumberland, and in 1809, for the first time, 
the seat of his friend, J. B. S. Morritt, Esq., — Rokeby Park, York- 
shire, — a charming estate, destined soon to become associated 
with one of his chief poems. In 1809, he, with his wife and 
daughter, made an excursion to the Highlands, and to the scenery 
of " The Lady of the Lake " (partly written during that year): He 
made his first visit to the Hebrides in 1810. In 181 1, he purchased 
his first acquired portion of the Abbotsford estate. He did not, 
however, remove thither until May in the next year ; and then, not 
to his grand "romance in stone and lime" now existing there, but 
to an humble home, that he described as " the smallest of possible 
cottages." The "romance" is minutely described in chapter 
xxxiv. Early in the autumn of 18 12, he again visited his friend 



-8 ''ROKEBrr 

Mr. Morritt, at Rokeby Park. At that charming place he re* 
mained about a week, viewing its many beauties. Result of the 
two visits became apparent after Christmas, of the same year, 
when his next great poem appeared, named from the picturesque 
region in which most of its action is represented — " Rokeby." 



X. 

Visit to the Scenery of "Rokeby." 

THIS poem, in six Cantos, though meditated during a year or 
two, was practically commenced at Abbotsford on the 15th 
day of September, 18 12, and was finished on the last day of the 
following December. Its scene, the poet informs us, "is laid at 
Rokeby, near Greta Bridge, in Yorkshire, and shifts to the adjacent 
fortress of Barnard Castle, and to other places in that vicinity. 
The Time occupied by the Action is a space of Five Days, Three 
of which are supposed to elapse between the end of the Fifth and 
beginning of the Sixth Canto. The date of the supposed events is 
immediately subsequent to the great Battle of Marston Moor, 3d 
July, 1644. This period of public confusion has been chosen," 
" as affording a degree of probability to the Fictitious Narrative." 
The poet also informs us that for success in this composition he 
depended more upon presentation of character than of material 
objects. The scenery amid which its action is represented to 
have occurred is delightful, yet it is visited by comparatively few 
travellers. It is all within one not extensive neighborhood. Some 
description of that is proposed here without as extended a sketch 
of the story of the poem as are the sketches already given of three 
others. Mr. Lockhart concisely expressed a thought that many 
readers may find true, when he wrote that he " never understood 
or appreciated half the charm of this poem until" he "had become 
familiar with its scenery," — shown in this composition with "admir- 
able, perhaps unique, fidelity." Scott himself, notwithstanding 
any subordination of natural objects to presentation of character 
in "Rokeby," felt great interest in the "local habitation" of this 
creation, and made careful researches and personal examinations in 



^'ROKeby:' 79 

regard to its characteristics and various antiquities. As early as 
July 8, 1809, he wrote to George Ellis, describing Rokeby Park, that 
he had just then visited, as " one of the most enviable places " he had 
''ever seen, as it unites the richness and luxuriance of English vege- 
tation with the romantic variety of glen, torrent, and copse, which 
dignities our northern scenery. The Greta and Tees, two most 
beautiful and rapid rivers, join their currents in the demesne. The 
banks of the Tees resemble, from the height of the rocks, the glen 
of Roslin, so much and justly admired." 

Mr. Morritt's Memorandum pleasantly informs us respecting 
Scott's "conscientious fidehty" in local descriptions, and his mode 
of harmonizing natural objects and legends, and his own creations. 
When the poet was at Rokeby Hall (about a week) in 181 2, Mr. Mor- 
ritt recorded that then he " could not help being singularly struck 
with the lights which this visit threw on " the characteristics of Scott's 
" compositions. The morning after he arrived, he said : ' You have 
often given me materials for romance ; now I want a good robber's 
cave, and an old church of the right sort.' We rode out, and he 
found what he wanted in the ancient slate quarries of Brignal and 
the ruined Abbey of Eggleston. I observed him noting down even 
the peculiar little wild flowers and herbs that accidentally grew 
round, and on the side of a bold crag near his intended cave of Guy 
Denzil ; and could not help saying, that as he was not to be upon oath 
in his work, daisies, violets, and primroses would be as poetical as 
any of the humble plants he was examining. I laughed, in short, 
at his scrupulousness ; but I understood him when he replied, 
' that in Nature herself, no two scenes were exactly alike, and that 
whoever copied truly what was before his eyes, would possess the 
same variety in his descriptions, and exhibit apparently an imagina- 
tion as boundless as the range of nature in the scenes he recorded ; 
whereas, whoever trusted to imagination, would soon find his own 
mind circumscribed and contracted to a few favorite images, and 
the repetition of these would sooner or later produce that very 
monotony and barrenness which had always haunted descriptive 
poetry in the hands of any but the patient worshippers of truth. 
Besides which,' he said, ' local names and peculiarities make a ficti- 
tious story look so much better in the face.' In fact, from his boy- 
ish habits, he was but half satisfied with the most beautiful scenery 
when he could not connect with it some local legend ; and when I 
was forced sometimes to confess with the Knife-grinder, ' Story ! 



So '' rokeby:' 

God bless you ! I have none to tell, sir ! ' he would laugh and say, 
'Then let us make one ; nothing so easy as to make a tradition.' " 

Only a few years ago one could have travelled pleasantly, by four- 
horse mail-coach, from the town of Darlington, on the great north 
road, to the old village of Barnard Castle, close to the border ot 
Yorkshire, and where the action of "Rokeby" begins. Now, a 
traveller by public carriage must take to the rail, and pass the same 
country, seeing less of its many attractions. 

As the poet informs us, by note, " Barnard Castle, saith old 
Leland, 'standeth stately upon Tees.'" Its remains yet extend 
over more than six acres of ground, upon a bank or point rising 
steeply almost a hundred feet above the river, and command- 
ing a wide and magnificent view over the forests and hills of 
Tees-dale. The ground-plan of the castle resembles a horseshoe 
in form. Westward, and from it, a long wall extends back from the 
river, bisecting Baliol's, or the Great, Tower, and meeting " Brack- 
enbury's Tower" on the north side. The former tower is circu- 
lar, and has walls eleven feet thick and about fifty feet high. Its 
basement room has a pecuHar arched ceihng, with a rise of only 
eighteen inches. There is a great stretch of outworks, oblong in 
extent. The whole structure is much as it was in Scott's time, 
except that the entrance towers (as the writer was told) have been 
removed to make room for the stable of a neighboring inn, or 
something equally important. In usual manner, this old feudal 
castle stands closely by its town, here gray and irregular. The 
castle, though formerly not worthily kept, will be found uncom- 
monly grand, picturesque, and interesting, and well worth a visit. 
In it the story of this poem opens, — at night. 

"The moon is in her summer glow, 
But hoarse and high the breezes blow, 
And, racking o'er her face, the cloud 
Varies the tincture of her shroud, 
On Barnard's towers and Tees's stream." 

This night becomes fitfully stormy, while Oswald Wycliffe, a dark, 
stern, wicked man, is awaiting the coming of Bertram Risingham, 
a bolder and more wicked man, — a retired buccaneer. This latter 
person at length appears, and announces tidings of the recent 
battle of Long Marston Moor, near York, in which the cause of 
His Majesty, King Charles I., suffered so much. An angry inquiiy 
by Wycliffe develops the action of the story. 



''ROKeby:' 8 1 

" ' Wretch ! hast thou paid thy bloody debt ? 
Philip of Mortham, lives he yet? 
False to ihy patron or thine oath, 
Trait'rous or perjured, one or both. 
Slave 1 hast thou kept thy promise plight, 
To slay thy leader in the fight ? ' " — 

And fierce Bertram's reply tells more of Oswald. 

" ' What reck'st thou of the Cause divine. 
If Mortham's wfealth and lands be thine? 
What carest thou for beleaguer'd York. 
If this good hand have done its work? 
Or what though Fairfax and his best 
Are reddening Marston's swarthy breast, 
If Philip Mortham with them lie, 
Lending his life-blood to the dye ? ' " 

We learn, however, that Mortham died in the battle, — and, we 
are to infer from Bertram's talk with Oswald, by murderous and 
mercenary premeditation between these two rascals. Their present 
business at Barnard Castle was a division of Mortham's wealth ; 
for, as Bertram said, — 

" ' When last we reason'd of this deed. 
Nought, I bethink me, was agreed, 
Or by what rule, or when, or where, 
The wealth of Mortham we should share.' " 

He proposed that Wycliffe, a " vassal sworn to England's throne," 
should by right of heritage take the landed estates of the dead 
man, — a kinsman ; while he assumed 

"Those spoils of Indian seas and mines. 
Hoarded in Mortham's caverns dark ; 
Ingot of gold and diamond spark. 
Chalice and plate from churches borne. 
And gems from shrieking beauty torn." 

Like many a crafty villain, WycHffe was a coward, and really afraid 
to venture alone with his accomplice to Mortham Castle (not far dis- 
tant), to reluctantly give up this available portion of the plunder. 
Accordingly, as he put it, — 

" ' Wilfred on Bertram should attend, 
His son should journey with his/riend.'' " 

Bertram perceived the reason, but merely contemptuously answered, 

" ' Wilfred or thou — 'tis one to me. 
Whichever bears the golden key.' " 
ft 



S3 ''ROKeby:' 

We are told that 

" Nought of liis sire's ungenerous part 
Polluted Wilfred's gentle heai't." 

He had no pleasure in war or turmoil : his was in the beauties of 
literature, and of scenery such as abounds in the North Country. 
He was a lover of 

" Matilda, heir of Rokeby's knight. 
To love her was an easy best," — 
" To woo her was a harder task." 

In course of the Great Civil War, 

" The Knight of Rokeby led his ranks, 

To aid the valiant northern Earls, 

Who drew the sword for royal Charles ; " — 
•' Philip of Mortham raised his band, 

And march'd at Fairfax's command." 

WyclifFe, " less prompt to brave the bloody field," as we find him, 
was meanwhile garrisoning Barnard Castle, also for the Commons. 
Wilfred, now roused by his father, was duly despatched with Ber- 
tram, and bidden to permit Bertram to have his way "in every 
point," because he was under commission to secure the deceased 
Mortham's 

" treasures, bought by spoil and blood, 
For the State's use and public good ! " 

From Barnard Castle, the traveller can make a pleasant excui 
sion of a day's length, or less, either by riding or walking, t>o 
Rokeby Park, and other scenes of this poem, to which its action 
next conducts. The traveller may either return to the place left, 
or go forward about fourteen miles over the broad hill-sides of the 
North Riding, and along the valleys of sundry " Becks," and on 
the so-called Roman road, " High Street," or " Watling Street," 
and over Kirkby Hill, and past Ravensworth village and castle, to 
Richmond. There will be found one of the grandest " Keeps " in 
Britain ; and there railway communication may be again reached. 

Mortham Tower, to which Bertram and Wilfred went, the writer 
found well kept, although used as a farmhouse. It is about three 
miles from Barnard Castle, and stands remote from public roads, 
upon a broad, grassy hill, and within the grounds of Rokeby. It 
is an interesting example of a minor and later mediaeval fortified 
place, being far less extensive than either Barnard or Richmond. 
It is simply a square enclosure, having buildings upon three sides. 
At one angle is the square keep, battlemented, and bearing a little 



''rokeby:' 83 

turret, on a corbel, at each angle. This keep contains three rooms, 
one above the other. From the top is an agreeable park-view and 
prospect of the valleys of the Greta and the Tees, — streams unit- 
ing a few hundred yards below the tower. The approach to Mor- 
tham is, usually, by delightfully picturesque paths beside these ; 
and among the trees and cliffs of Rokeby Park. Such approach 
was that of Wilfred and Bertram, capitally described in the vii. viii. 
and ix. and subsequent parts of the Second Canto. This scenery 
retains much of the aspect it presented in their time, as also does 
the hiding-place of Mortham's treasure, described in tlie poem, — 
a place the two confederates were not long in reaching. 

• South of the gate an arrow-flight, 
Two mighty elms their hmbs unite, 
As if a canopy to spread 
O'er the lone dwelling of the dead ; 
Vox their huge boughs in arches bent 
Above a massive monument, 
Carved o'er in ancient Gothic wise, 
Witli many a scutcheon and device : " 
There, spent with toil and sunk in gloom, 
Bertram stood pondering by the tomb." 

The writer found it an oblong, gray, mossy tomb, of the usual 
Gothic form and style, standing between two very large, spreading 
Enghsh elms, with low branches. The two treasure-seekers, while 
" pondering " near it, were unexpectedly interrupted by Wycliffe and 
a martial young man, Redmond, who sought to arrest Bertram, 
knowing him to be the murderer of Mortham. Bertram escaping 
was sought for by Redmond, and by others coming up ; while Wy- 
cliffe, desiring to keep concealed his portion of the ruffianly business, 
was in despair lest this should be discovered, and he should be 
ruined. Redmond sought the murderer through the neighboring 
Brignal Wood and the Glen of Greta, in which latter, among broken 
rocks, Bertram had concealed himself This glen is a wild, ro- 
mantic portion of Rokeby Park, where the stream has worn its 
way through stratified ledges of limestone, and for hundreds of 
yards dashes over angular masses or broad shelves or broken 
stony fragments, darkly shaded by dense, overhanging trees, and 
the narrow ravine's precipitous walls. These rise, course on 
course, perhaps fifty feet in height, on the one side, and, here and 
there, nmety feet on the other side, all thicketed with shrubbery. 
While thereabouts, Bertram was roused by the advent of an ac- 



84 ''ROKEBYy 

quaintance, Guy Denzil, who, for marauding deeds, had been ex- 
pelled " Rokeby's band." This newly arrived worthy announced, 
that, near by, lurked a band of confederates, — renegade Cavaliers 
and Roundheads, — whose principle of action seemed to have been 
indiscriminate robbery, and that this band needed a leader. Ber- 
tram thinking, 

" ' What lack I, vengeance to command, 
But of stanch comrades such a band ? ' " 

at once accepted an oifer of command, and forthwith was conducted 
across the stream, and up beneath one of the cliifs, to a concealed 
cavern, where he found the confederates carousing. The cave 
shown now as "Bertram's Cave" is a little place for the boister- 
ous revelry of a robber gang ; but it may have experienced the 
earthly vicissitude of change, and have become, at present, a mere 
grotto or rustic arbor. The real robbers' cave of the poem, as 
already intimated, was, however, one of the many extensive disused 
slate or flagstone quarries existing in the neighborhood, and quite 
available for purposes described in the story. Guy Denzil, there 
discussing various schemes for plunder, and the subject of Mor- 
tham's wealth, suggested : — 

" ' Were Rokeby's daughter in our power, 
We rate her ransom at her dower." 

To which Bertram responded : — 

" ' 'Tis well ! — there's vengeance in the thought 
Matilda is by Wilfred sought ; 
And hot-brain'd Redmond, too, 'tis said, 
Pays lover's homage to the maid. 
Bertram she scorn'd — if met by chance, 
She turn'd from me her shuddering glance, 
Like a nice dame, that will not brook 
On what she hates and loathes to look ; 
She told to Mortham she could ne'er 
Behold me without secret fear, 
Foreboding evil ; — she may rue 
To find her prophecy fall true ! — 
The war has weeded Rokeby's train, 
Few followers in his halls remain ; 
If thy scheme miss, then, brief and bold, 
We are enow to storm the hold ; 
Bear off the plunder, and the dame, 
And leave the castle all in flame.' " 

Denzil approved this plan, adding, that he knew exactly each pas- 
sage of the old house, and a postern door, then quite neglected, 



'' FOKEBT:' S5 

through which, by means of an admitted confederate, they might 
gain possession of the building. 

Not even a fragment of this old house, or castle, now exists (to 
the writer's knowledge). One may, however, find upon its site the 
hall known to Scott ; as shown at the writer's visit, a simple, but 
rather large, two-storied, square edifice, with a wing on each side, 
— the whole apparently of George III.'s time, faced with yellowish 
stone or plaster, and surrounded by a wide lawn and park. 

The poem introduces us, at the former residence, to the heroine, 
Matilda. She has been thought portrayed from the lost first love 
of the poet. In the fifth part of the Fourth Canto is a long and 
charming description of her, — once merry, ever beautiful, though 
then sad : — 

" In Marston field her father ta"en, 
Her friends dispersed, brave Mortham slain, 
While every ill her soul foretold, 
From Oswald's thirst of power and gold." 

During the sketching of Scott's stories and of their plots, in this 
book, an unfolding here of all this tale of Rokeby may, however, 
be omitted. A reader of the poem, when among the picturesque 
scenes in which its action is represented, will find enough from it 
to wake their solitudes, and revive the fortunes of its contrasted, 
active characters. Only one of these scenes remains to be 
pointed out to the traveller, or described to the reader who does 
not visit Rokeby Park. This one scene is that in which the catas- 
trophe of the tale occurrred, — such an exposition of villany and 
fanaticism, with merited doom, as the poet was justly disposed to 
make. The scene is one of those fair, mouldering, monastic ruins 
so frequently seen in England, and so mournfully picturesque, — 
EgHston Abbey. It is not a very large but a tolerably complete 
edifice, in the pointed style, situated a couple of miles from Rokeby, 
towards Barnard Castle, in one of those beautiful positions that (as 
these pages more than once describe) the monks knew so well 
how to select. 

Below it, through a deep, romantically beautiful little valley, em- 
bowered by luxuriant foliage, dashes and foams the river Tees over 
broken, tessellated-hke rocks. A charming vista of rich and peace- 
ful vale scenery, genuinely English, is thus presented. At one end, 
Rokeby Hall looks down ; while in the opposite direction, on a 
grassy hill, just where a little dell — Thorsgill — unites with the 
river- vale, rise these ruins, venerably gray. Much of the religious 



86 " THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN." 

house is, or lately was, habitable. The church was dedicated to 
Saint Mary and Saint John the Baptist. Its choir and transept 
walls are tolerably entire. Within them were once tombs of fami- 
lies long resident in the neighboring country, — Rokeby, Bowes, 
Fitz-Hugh, and others. A portion of the monastic buildings have 
been converted into a farmhouse. 

After this exploration of the natural and artificial scenes of this 
poem, as they may now be found in quiet beauty, and after this in- 
troduction to the story of the poem, it may be sufficient to remark 
here, that "Rokeby" will quite satisfy any reasonable person, both 
with a reading and a visit to the region with which it is associated ; 
and any such person may well concur with an opinion of a reviewer 
who was a contemporary with its publication : its narrative is 
spirited, nervous, and concise ; its fable is interesting, and its 
delineations of character and development of plot are masterly. 

And this sketch may properly be finished with quotation of the 
concluding lines of the poem, lines that console one for vicissitudes 
of its fair heroine, Maud, about which one may read, and lines that 
tell the result of the story ; — 

" Time and Tide had thus their sway. 
Yielding, like an April dav, 
Smiling noon for sullen morrow, 
Years of joy for hours of sorrow ! " 



XL 



"The Bridal of Triermain," and the Valley of Saint 
John, near Keswick. 

^ I ^HIS, chronologically Scott's next poem, was published during 
-*- the ensuing year, 1813. Though one of his minor poetic 
works, it is of no small interest ; indeed, with the writer, it is an 
especial favorite, and this interest is increased by acquaintance with 
the scenery wherein its action is represented, — some of the grand- 
est, as also of the most picturesque, in England. 

"This poem is," says the " Quarterly Review," "purely a tale of 
Chivalry ; a tale of Britain's Isle and Arthur's days, when midnight 



- THE BRIDAL OF TRIER MAIN." S7 

fairies danced the maze. The author never gives us a glance of 
ordinary Hfe, or of ordinary personages. From the splendid court 
of Arthur, we are conveyed to the halls of enchantment, and, of 
course, are introduced to a system of manners, perfectly decided 
and appropriate, but altogether remote from those of this ' vulgar 
world.' " 

In the style of Scott's great poems, this has introductions, less 
successful and agreeable, however, than those gracing the " Lay," 
"The Lady," and '• Marmion." "The Bridal" is susceptible of 
exquisite allegorical rendering, though perhaps not intended by 
Scott to bear it. Certainly this poem leads most charmingly into 
an air-castled dreamland, that, however unreal, can teach quite as 
much as, and please a great deal more than, not a little of our mere 
matter-of-fact world. 

The story of " The Bridal " is associated with the vicinity of Car- 
lisle, an ancient English Border city, that, with this vicinity, deserves 
more examination than travellers are accustomed to bestow upon 
either. Some descriptions of both, additional to any in this chapter, 
will be found in those relating to " Redgauntlet " (xix.), " Guy Man- 
nering " (xx.), and " Rob Roy " (xxi.). The portion of country 
chiefly associated with this composition is that part of the " Lake 
District " near Keswick, about forty miles (by indirect road) south- 
westward from Carlisle, that includes Ulleswater, the Valley of 
Saint John, and Helvellyn, — over whose "brow sublime" is a 
magnificent promenade. 

" Where is the maiden of mortal strain. 
That may match with the Baron of Triermain ? " 

Thus begins the poem, and the poet answers : — 

" She must be lovely, and constant, and kind, 
Holy and pure, and humble of mind, 
Blithe of cheer, and gentle of mood. 
Courteous, and generous, and noble of blood — 
Lovely as the sun's first ray. 
When it breaks the clouds of an April day ; 
Constant and true as the widow'd dove ; 
Kind as a minstrel that sings of love ; 
Pure as the fountain in rocky cave, 
Where never sunbeam kiss'd the wave ; 
Humble as maiden that loves in vain ; 
Holy as hermit's vesper strain ; 
Gentle as breeze that but whispers and dies, 
Yet blithe as the light leaves that dance in its sighs: 



88 ' T[IE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAiX:' 

Courteous as monarch the morn he is crowai'd, 

Generous as spring-dews that bless the glad ground : 

Noble her blood as the currents that met 

In the veins of the noblest Plantagenet — 

Such must her form be, her mood, and her strain, 

That shall match with Sir Roland of Triermain." 

This Sir Roland de Vaux was lord of Triermain Castle, the 
scanty remains of which may be found about fifteen miles east of 
Carlisle. There, when this story began, Sir Roland, sleeping after 
a foray against the Scots, dreamed of music, — 

" So sweet, so soft, so faint, 
It seem'd an angel's whisper'd call 
To an expiring saint ; " 

and he dreamed then, also, of a maid with "heavenly brow" and 
"angel air," — like this one who has just been portrayed. 

"If that fair form breathe vital air, 
No other maiden by my side 
Shall ever rest De Vaux's bride," 

vowed the Baron. Immediately he sent his page Henry, — trustiest 
of all his train, — riding fleetly as could be, 

"to Lyulph's tower," 

there to greet a " sage of power " 

" sprung from Druid sires, 
And British bards that tuned their lyres 
To Arthur's and Pendragon's praise, 
And his who sleeps at Dunmallraise : 
Gifted like his gifted race," 
Who "the characters" could "trace, 
Graven deep in elder time 
Upon Helvellyn's cliffs sublime." 

For 

" He shall tell if middle earth 
To that enchanting shape gave birth. 
Or if 'twas but an airy thing, 
Such as fantastic slumbers bring." 

In characteristic topographic verse, poetic and accurate, Scoti 
shows the Page's course from Triermain to this Lyulph's Tower, 
situated more than a score of miles distant, and on rising ground 
above Ulles water Lake. 

Wrote the poet of this Page : — 



" THE BRIDAL OF TRIEEMAIN.- 89 

*' he cross'd green Irthing's mead, 
Dashed o'er Kirkoswald's verdant plain, 
And Eden barr'd his course in vain. 
He pass'd red Penrith's Table Round, 
For feats of chivalry renown'd, 
Left Mayburgh's mound and stones of power, 
By Druids raised in magic hour, 
And traced the Eamont's winding way, 
Till Ulfo's lake beneath him lay." 

Those who ride through Cumberland, can easily recognize these 
localities ; and the pleasant power of the Magician, through his 
story, invests with some romantic interest even the spots glanced 
at by this rapid messenger. 

He duly reached the wise old man's cell, and learned that 

" That maid is bom of middle earth, 
And may of man be won, 
Though there have glided since her birth 
Five hundred years and one." 

And then he learned her wonderful history. This : — 

" King Arthur had ridden from merry Carlisle 
When Pentecost was o'er: 

He joumey'd like errant-knight the while," — 
" Till on his course obliquely shone 

The narrow valley of Saint John, 

Down sloping to the western sky, 

Where lingering sunbeams love to lie." 

There he discovered a mighty Castle, around which he rode three 
times, " nor living thing he spied " while doing thus. He was about 
sounding his bugle, 

Yet the silence of that ancient place 
Sunk on his heart, and he paused a space 

Ere yet his horn he blew. 
But, instant as its 'larum rung. 
The Castle gate was open flung, 
Portcullis rose with crashing groan," 

gloomy entrance was open to him. 

'* A hundred torches, flashing bright, 
Dispell'd at once the gloomy night 

That lour'd along the walls, 
And show'd the King's astonish'd sight 

The inmates of the halls. 
Nor wizard stem, nor goblin grim. 
Nor giant huge of form and limb, 



go *' THE BRIDAL OF TRlERMAJNr 

Nor heathen knight was there ; 
But the cressets, which odours flung aloft, 
Show'd by their yellow light and soft, 

A band of damsels fair." 

These beautiful creatures at once accosted and assailed the King 
Soon they took from him his armor, and began to lavish various 
delightful attentions upon him : — 

" A bride upon her wedding day 
Was tended ne'er by troop so gay." 

They conducted him through the stately apartments of the Castle, 
until in one, — 

" Ne'er were such charms by mortal seen, 
As Arthur's dazzled eyes engage, 
When forth on that enchanted stage. 
With glittering train of maid and page, 
Advanced the Castle's Queen ! " 

Her fascinating look was a lovely yet deadly snare. Heedless of 
any ill, however, the King joined her at a banquet to which he was 
bidden, sitting closely by her, and receiving all the delights of her 
society, — and many and exquisite these were. But of the sequel, 
as the poem says, why 

" trace from what slight cause 
Its source one tyrant passion draws, 

Till, mastering all within. 
Where lives the man that has not tried. 
How mirth can into folly glide. 

And folly into sin 1 

"Another day, another day. 

And yet another glides away ! 

The Saxon stern, the pagan Dane, 

Maraud on Britain's shores again. 

Arthur, of Christendom the flower, 

Lies loitering in a lady's bower." 
" Heroic plans in pleasure drown'd. 

He thinks not of the Table Round." 

The charms of this lady, Guendolen, were too potent, for she 
was of more than "mortal line," — 

" Her mother was of human birth, 
Her sire a Genie of the earth. 
In days of old deem'd to preside 
O'er lover's wiles and beauty's pride." 

This supernatural Beauty used all her inherited or acquired art 
and power to enthrall the King. Yet, in time, she had to perceive 



''THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN." 9 1 

that her influence over hhn was departing, until, when " three sum- 
mer months had scantly flown," duty prevailed over lawless love, 
and the King bade her adieu. The poet has pictured the parting 
vividly in Canto II. vi., vii. After the King had left Guendolen 
and her castle, he was surprised when she, "attired like huntress 
of the wood," and ever fascinating, waylaid him, and asked that they 
should part "like lover and like friend," and that they should mu- 
tually pledge amity in the contents of a golden cup that she pre- 
sented to him, — a cup, not of the "juice the sluggish vines of earth 
produce," she said, but such as the Genii love. Happily the King 
did not quite taste the draught, for it was a burning liquor "intense 
as Hquid fire from hell." A drop of it upon the neck of his horse 
caused the animal to rear in agony, and to dash frantically away, 
overturning thus the cup, and scattering a shower of " fiery dew," 
" that burn'd and bhghted where it fell ! " After a while, the mon- 
arch, looking back toward the "fatal castle," saw only where it 
stood, — 

" A tufted knoll, where dimly shone 
Fragments of rock and rifted stone. 
Musing on this strange hap the while, 
The King wends back to fair Carlisle ; 
And cares, that cumber royal sway, 
Wore memory of the past away. 

" Full fifteen years, and more, were sped, 
Each brought new wreaths to Arthur's head," 

" And wide were through the world renown'd 
The glories of his Table Round," 



when 



" At Penrith, now, the feast was set, 
And in fair Eamont's vale were met 
The flower of Chivalry." 



Where the crumbling, disjointed, russet-brown ruins of Penrith 
Castle now look down over the legendary " Round Table," in a 
square, bare, green field, not far away, a grand tourney was held 
by the great King and his Knights, — the most gallant of Christen- 
dom. When the feast and music were gayest, strangely enough, 
appeared 

" A maiden, on a palfrey white. 
Heading a band of damsels bright." 

Her dress, — that of a huntress, — her bearing, her countenance, 
were so like those of the Queen of the Castle of Saint John, that, 

" The King, as from his seat he sprung, 
Almost cried, ' Guendolen ! ' 



92 



" TEE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAINr 

But 'twas a face more frank and mild, 
Betwixt the woman and the child, 
Where less of magic beauty smiled 

Than of the race of men ; 
And in the forehead's haughty grace, 
The lines of Britain's royal race, 

Pendragon's you might ken." 

She was the daughter of Arthur and of Guendolen, come, in her 
" departed mother's name," to claim her father's protection, vowed 
before her birth, that she should have "a fitting spouse," — one, 
who of " the bravest knights alive," should in the lists prove best ; 
for the King had vowed that such an one 

" Shall Arthur's daughter claim for bride." 

Forthwith, 

" Within trumpet sound of the Table Round 
Were fifty champions free, 
And they all arise to fight that prize." 

The poem itself should show how the lists were prepared ; how 
the great contest began, and continued, and grew desperate ; and 
how this daughter of the King, holding the warder, by drop of 
which the strife would be stayed, — this Gyneth of such strange 
origin, — permitted and persisted that murderous slaughter should 
be brought on, until 

" the sky was overcast. 
Then howled at once a whirlwind's blast, 

And, rent by sudden throes. 
Yawns in mid lists the quaking earth. 
And from the gulf, — tremendous birth ! — 

The form of Merlin rose. 

" Sternly the Wizard Prophet eyed 
The dreary lists with slaughter dyed, 

And sternly raised his hand : — 
' Madmen ! ' he said, ' your strife forbear 1 
And thou, fair cause of mischief, hear 
The doom thy fates demand ! 

Long shall close in stony sleep 

Eyes for ruth that would not weep ; 

Iron lethargy shall seal 

Heart that pity scom'd to feel. 

Yet, because thy mother's art 

Warp'd thine unsuspicious heart. 

And for love of Arthur's race. 

Punishment is blent with grace, 

Thou shalt bear thy penance lone. 

In the Valley of Saint John, 



" THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN.'^ ^3 



And this weird shall overtake thee : — 
Sleep, until a knight shall wake thee, 
For feats of arms as far renown'd 
As warrior of the Table Round. 
Long endurance of thy slumber 
Well may teach the world to number 
All their woes from Gyneth's pride, 
When the Red Cross champions died. 

As Merhn speaks, on Gyneth's eye 
Slumber's load begins to lie ; 
Fear and anger vainly strive 
Still to keep its light alive." 



And thus she gently sinks in sleep. 



*' The weighty baton of command 
Now bears down her sinking hand. 
On her shoulder droops her head ; 
Net of pearl and golden thread. 
Bursting, gave her locks to flow 
O'er her arm and breast of snow. 
And so lovely seem'd she there, 
Spell-bound in her ivory chair," 
That "the champions, for her sake. 
Would again the contest wake ; 
Till, in necromantic night, 
Gyneth vanish'd from their sight." 



Thus the Sage of Lyulph's Tower told the Page the tale of the 
fair being whom his Lord of Triermain beheld in vision. Closing 
the tale, the Sage said : — 



tor, 



' Still she bears her weird alone, 
In the Valley of Saint John; 
And her semblance oft will seem. 
Mingling in a champion's dream." 

■ Most have sought in vain the glen. 
Tower nor castle could they ken ; 

' Fast and vigil must be borne, 
Many a night in watching worn, 
Ere an eye of mortal powers 
Can discern those magic towers." 

' Few have braved the yawning door, 
And those few returned no more. 
In the lapse of time forgot, 
Well nigh lost is Gyneth's lot ; 
Sound her sleep is as the tomb. 
Till waken'd by the trump of doom.' 



94 



THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN: 



The Third and last Canto describes that exploit of the bold 
Baron, giving title to the poem, and opens with another capital 
passage of Scott's topographic and descriptive poetry. 

" Bewcastle now must keep the Hold, 

Speir- Adam's steeds must bide in stall, 
Of Hartley-burn the bowmen bold 

Must only shoot from battled wall; 
And Liddesdale may buckle spur, 

And Teviot now may belt the brand, 
Tarras and Ewes keep nightly stir. 

And Eskdale foray Cumberland 
Of wasted fields and plundered flocks 

The Borderers bootless may complain ; 
They lack the sword of brave De Vaux, 

There comes no aid from Triermain. 
That lord, on high adventure bound, 

Hath wander'd forth alone. 
And day and night keeps watchful round 

In the Valley of Saint John." 

Those who travel much in the " Lake District " can readily trace 
the course of the chivalrous Baron from his castle on the " English 
Border," across the lowly hilled country southward, to the romantic 
Valley. This opens between the road from Keswick to Ambleside, 
and that from Keswick towards Penrith, three or four miles from 
the first-named place. Looking northward, down its whole length, 
one sees a vista of bare, broken, rocky, or grassy heights, opening 
wider and wider, forming, at the upper or southern end, a deep and 
narrow pass, and, towards the lower end, a pleasant vale of pas- 
tures and grain fields. Forming the opposite horizon and terminat- 
ing the view, rise the long, rifted side of Saddleback, and the more 
pyramidal mass of Skiddaw. Close to one, at the right, rise " the 
Castle Rocks," forming a bold, gray bluif, half way up the wild, 
stony slope of the mountainous valley-side. They are a sort of 
ridge-shape, extending lengthways with the valley, and ascending 
with a rude sweep, till they terminate precipitously on either side 
and at the northern end. Some shrubbery grows around their 
bases; but the upper portions are bare, — grassy, where not of 
dark, sombre, gray rock. In a short time, one may scramble to 
the top, perhaps three hundred or four hundred feet above the road 
that extends through the valley. The writer had the good fortune 
to see the landscape presented from the summit, lighted by the 
radiance of a brilliant sunset. It may thus have borrowed unusual 



*' THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN: 



95 



charms ; yet it must always — of course in tolerable weather — be 
attractive. One looking north may see eastward the lofty ridge of 
High Fells, crested by the Great Dodd and Watson's Dodd ; and 
westward, knolly hills, among them Castlerigg Fell and Pligh 
Seat. Through the bottom of the vale ripples a pretty stream, — 
the Saint John's Beck, — sometimes rock-bound, sometimes shaded 
by shrubs and trees, — the latter along nearly its whole course, — 
and thus leading the sight on to the grand northern mountains, 
Skiddaw and Saddleback, reHeved, aside, by a gleaming reach of 
Bassenthwaite Water. From over the knolly hills westward, — the 
elevated ridge forming the eastern border of Derwent-water and 
Borrowdale, — the gorgeous sunset rays slant across upon the 
opposite High Fells. Southward, one sees down another nobly 
beautiful vista. There lies Thirlmere, bordered west by rocky, 
forested hills, and east (and joined continuously to the High Fells 
range) by the long, bare, vast ridge of " mighty Helvellyn," all 
rocky or grassy, and seemingly bearing scarcely a shrub upon its 
"broad brow : " scarcely any thing other than a few stream-gorges, 
bare, stony, and gray, varies its surfaces. Of course, a view of Hel- 
vellyn recalls the well-known verses of Wordsworth and of Scott. 
The scene of the death of the adventurer to which these refer is, 
however, on an opposite side of the m.ountain, — Striding Edge, 
the writer's route of ascent to the summit, and as wild and steep a 
chmbing-place as can be found in England. 

If one approaches these "Castle Rocks" from the north, — up 
the Valley of Saint John, as did the Baron of Triermain, — one 
may see them rising in frowning greatness, yet beautifully fringed 
with little shrubs and birch sprays, and perhaps with small flower- 
ing plants. From the road, narrow, and often closely bordered 
by trees, at many various turns, one gains as many various and 
picturesque views of the vale and the curious rock-pile. At a little 
distance it strangely resembles a hoary, massive, extensive castle, 
buttressed and turreted ; and with ruined battlements and sides. 
Such was its appearance, for a long time, while the Baron of Trier- 
main watched around it, until at last, 

"when, through hills of azure borne, 
The moon renew'd her silver horn, 
Just at the time her waning ray 
Had faded in the dawning day, 
A summer mist arose ; 



96 " THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIX:' 

Adown the vale the vapors float. 
And cloudy undulations moat 
That tufted mound of mystic note. 
As round its base they close." 

" The breeze came softly down the brook. 
And sighing as it blew, 
The veil of silver mist it shook. 
And to De Vaux's eager look" 
" Were towers and bastions dimly seen, 
And Gothic battlements between 
Their gloomy length unroll'd." 
" But ere the mound he could attain. 
The rocks their shapeless form regain." 

The warlike Baron, foiled in an attempt to enter this seemingly 
fiend-haunted castle, and not slightly angered also, hurled his bat- 
tle-axe at a projecting rock, when, whether by force or by breaking' 
of some spell, a portion of the crag crashed down, 

" An, lo ! the ruin had laid bare, 
Hewn in the stone, a winding stair." 

De Vaux at once ascended this, "and soon a platform won," 

*' Where, the wild witcherj' to close, 
Within three lances' length arose 

The Castle of Saint John ! " 
" Embattled high and proudly tower'd. 
Shaded by pond'rous flankers, lower'd 

The portal's gloomy way. 
Though for six hundred years, and more. 
Its strength had brook'd the tempest's roar. 
The scutcheon'd emblems which it bore 

Had suffered no decay : 
But from the eastern battlement 
A turret had made sheer descent. 
And down in recent ruin rent, 

In the mid torrent lay. 
Else, o'er the Castle's brow sublime, 
Insults of violence or of time 

Unfelt had pass'd away. 
In shapeless characters of yore. 
The gate this stern inscription bore : — 

Inscription. 
" ' Patience waits the destined day, 
Strength can clear the cumber'd way. 
Warrior, who hast waited long. 
Firm of soul, of sinew strong, 
It is given thee to gaze 
On the pile of ancient da}^. 
Never mortal builder's hand 
This enduring fabric plann'd ; 



- THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIX:' 97 

Sign and sigil, word of power, 
From the earth raised keep and tower. 
View it o'er, and pace it round, 
Rampart, tuiTet, battled mound. 
Dare no more ! to cross the gate 
Were to tamper with thy fate ; 
Strength and fortitude were vain, 
View it o'er — and turn again.' " 

But not thus the bold warrior determined. 

" I mock these words of awe," 

lie said, and forthwith, at the utterance, with jar and crash the gate- 
way opened, and he entered the " Castle's outer court." 

" There the main fortress, broad and tall. 
Spread its long range of bower and hall, 

And towers of varied size, 
Wrought with each ornament extreme, 
That Gothic art, in wildest dream 

Of fancy, could devise." 

But there was a moat intervening, that must be crossed before he 
could enter this main edifice. Neither " bridge nor boat " was 
there, so determinedly he put aside his armor, and soon swam " the 
clear, profound, and silent fosse," and entered an enchanted hall, 
built, Hke a gallery leading from it, of "snow-white marble." Be- 
side the gallery stood " four maids whom Afric bore." Each led a 
Lybian tiger by a hair-like thread. All, motionless as statues, 
beset his way ; the maids singing warningly, threateningly, — 

" ' Rash Adventurer, bear thee back ! 
Dread the spell of Dahomay ! 
Fear the race of Zaharak, 
Daughters of the burning day ! ' " 

And also, in like strain, much more. But Sir Roland did not heed 
them, — or Fear. Drawing his "trusty sword," he 

" Caught down a banner from the wall. 
And enter'd thus the fearful hall." 

Victoriously as boldly, he encountered the then aroused and raging 
•savage guard, passed it, and pressed onward. And then he heard 
behind him the maidens wildly and joyfully singing, — 

" ' Hurra, hurra ! Our watch is done I 
We hail once more the tropic sun. 
Pallid beams of northern day. 
Farewell, farewell 1 Hurra, hurra 1 

7 



98 " THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN: 



Warrior ! thou whose dauntless heart 
Gives us from our ward to part, 
Be as strong in future trial, 
Where resistance is denial.' " 



Still pressing onward, he encountered another ordeal, when next he 
entered " a lofty dome " — 

"That flash'd with such a brilliant flame, 
As if the wealth of all the world 
Were there in rich confusion hurl'd." 

Again, four maidens addressed him, both singly and in chorus. 

" ' See the treasures Merlin piled, 
Portion meet for Arthur's child. 
Bathe in Wealth's unbounded stream, 
Wealth that Avarice ne'er could dream \ ' " 
" ' Warrior, seize the splendid store I ' " 

" Calmly and unconcern'd, the Knight 
Waved aside the treasures bright : 
^ ' Gentle Maidens, rise, I pray ! 

Bar not thus my destined way.' " — 
" gently parting from their hold. 
He left, unmoved, the dome of gold." 

The morning had then grown oppressively hot, and De Vaux, 
weary, faint, and thirsty, hearing the plashing waters of a fountain, 
sought and found it, and was refreshing himself, when still other 
maidens approached him, — the fairest and most fascinating of all 
whom he had yet seen in the Castle, — with 

"that sly pause of witching powers. 
That seems to say, ' To please be ours. 

Be yours to tell us how.' 
Their hue was of the golden glow 
That suns of Candahar bestow, 
O'er which in slight suffusion flows 
A frequent tinge of paly rose ; 
Their limbs were fashion'd fair and free, 
In Nature's justest symmetry ; 
And, wreathed with flowers, with odours graced, 
Their raven ringlets reach'd the waist : 
In eastern pomp, its gilding pale 
The hennah lent each shapely nail, 
And the dark sumah gave the eye 
More liquid and more lustrous dye. 
The spotless veil of misty lawn, 
In studied disarrangement, drawn 

The form and bosom o'er, 
To win the eye, or tempt the touch, 
For modesty show'd all too much — 

Too much — yet promised more." 



" THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN. 



99 



Sir Roland resisted the charms of the " Maids," although they 
tempted him very seductively ; and kindly " broke their magic 
circle through." Pressing onward, he 

*' heard behind their lovely lay : — 
• Fair Flower of Courtesy, depart ! 
Go, where the feelings of the heart 
With the warm pulse in concord move ; 
Go, where Virtue sanctions Love ! ' "' 

His course next lay " through darksome ways," amid " foul 
vapours," "mine-fires," clouds of "poisoned air," and "deep pits, 
and lakes of waters dun." 

" So perilous his state seem'd now 
He wish'd him under arbor bough 

With Asia's willing maid. 
When, joyful sound ! at distance near 
A trumpet flourish'd loud and clear ; 
And as it ceased, a lofty lay 
Seem'd thus to chide his lagging way." 

" * Lag not now, though rough the way. 
Fortune's mood brooks no delay ; 
Grasp the boon that's spread before ye. 
Monarch's power and conqueror's glory ! ' " 

The song ceased, and he still advanced, until, at length, he entered 

"A lofty hall, with trophies dress'd," 

and met yet four other maidens, " whose crimson vest was bound 
with golden zone." 

" Of Europe seemed the damsels all ; 

The first a nymph of lively Gaul,'' 

" The next a maid of Spain," 
" Her shy and bashful comrade told 

For daughter of Almaine." 
" The fourth a space behind them stood," 
" Of merry England she, in dress . 

Like ancient British Druidess." 

" At once to brave De Vaux knelt down 

These foremost maidens three. 
And proflfer'd sceptre, robe, and crown, 

Liegedom and seignorie, 
O'er many a region wide and fair, 
Destined, they said, for Arthur's heir ; 

But homage would he none : " — 
Because " far rather, would he be 
A free-born knight of England free. 
Than sit on Despot's throne." 



joo ''THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN:' 

He was passing onward, when the fourth Maiden, playing a harp, 
sang his song of triumph : — 

" ' Quake to your foundations deep, 
Stately Towers and Banner'd Keep, 
Bid your vaulted echoes moan, 
As the dreaded step they own. 

" ' Fiends, that wait on Merlin's spell, 
Hear the foot-fall ! mark it well ! 
Spread your dusky wings abroad, 
Bourne ye for your homeward road I 

" ' It is His, the first who e'er 
Dared the dismal Hall of Fear ; 
His, who hath the snares defied 
Spread by Pleasure, Wealth, and Pride. 

" ' Quake to your foundations deep, 
Bastion huge, and Turret steep ! 
Tremble, Keep, and totter. Tower ! 
This is Gyneth's waking hour.' " 

While the harp-player sang this song, the adventurous Knight 
reached a truly lovely bower, marvellously beautifully lighted, and 
there 

" He saw King Arthur's child I 
Doubt, and anger, and dismay, 
From her brow had pass'd away, 
Forgot was that fell tourney-day. 

For, as she slept, she smiled : 
It seem'd that the repentant Seer 
Her sleep of many a hundred year 

With gentle dreams beguiled. 

" That form of maiden loveliness, 

'Twixt childhood and 'twixt youth. 
That ivory chair, that sylvan dress. 
The arms and ankles bare, express 
Of Lyulph's tale the truth." 
" And the warder of command 
Cumber'd still her sleeping hand ; 
Still her dark locks dishevell'd flow 
From net of pearl o'er breast of snow." 



Trembling with joy he gazed. 



Doubtful how he should destroy 

Long enduring spell ; 
Doubtful, too, when slowly rise 
Dark-fringed lids of Gyneth's eyes, 

What these eyes shall tell. — 
' St. George ! St. Mary 1 can it be. 
That they will kindly look on me I * 



SCOTT IN 18U. lOl 

" Gently, lo ! the Wamor kneels, 
Soft that lovely hand he steals. 
Soft to kiss, and soft to clasp — 
But the warder leaves his grasp ; 

Lightning flashes, rolls the thunder I 
Gjmeth startles from her sleep, 
Totters Tower, and trembles Keep, 

Burst the Castle-walls asunder I 
Fierce and frequent were the shocks, — 

Melt the magic halls away ; 
— But beneath their mystic rocks, 
In the arms of bold De Vaux, 

Safe the princess lay ; 
Safe and free from magic power, 
Blushing like the rose's flower 

Opening to the day ; 
And round the Champion's brows were bound 

The crown that Druidess had wound, 
Of the green laurel-bay. 
And this was what remain'd of all 
The wealth of each enchanted hall, 

The Garland and the Dame : 
But where should Warrior seek the meed. 
Due to high worth for daring deed, 

Except from Love and Fame I " 

And thus, nobly and joyfully, ended " The Bridal of Triermain.' 



XII. 

SCOTT IN 1814. 

'T^HE year 18 14 was a memorable year in the life of Scott. 
-*- Already the successes of a splendid rival poet, Byron, had 
caused him to think of other styles of works than those in verse, 
and had thus partially induced the composition of perhaps the 
most renowned novel ever pubhshed, — " Waverley," which ap- 
peared July 7th of this year. The topography of this novel, 
together with that of the brilliant series named from it, will be 
described after sketches of the last two considerable poems pro- 
duced by Scott, — "The Lord of the Isles," begun at Abbotsford, 
in the autumn, and finished at Edinburgh, December 16 (and pub- 
lished January 18, 181 5); and '■' Harold the Dauntless" (published 



)02 SCOTT IN 1814. 

in 1817). Other, and less imaginative literary works, were, as 
usual, all the while being prepared and made public by him. Emi- 
nent among these is his " Life and Works of Jonathan Swift, 
D.D.," in 19 vols. 8vo ; one of the remarkable monuments of his 
editorial labors. 

On the 29th of July, 1814, Scott sailed from Leith on board the 
yacht of the Commissioners of the Northern Lights (the beacons, 
and not the Boreal Aurora). In this vessel he made a voyage to 
Orkney, Shetland, the Hebrides, and a part of the Irish Coast, 
— a voyage lasting about six weeks, and second only in celebrity 
of its sort to that of Dr. Johnson to the Western Islands. A 
portion of Scott's observations then made appeared seven years 
afterward in " The Pirate " (chapter xxv.), a portion in his char- 
acteristically graphic and beautiful descriptions in the " Lord of 
the Isles." Visits to places associated with this latter work — in 
order of composition his next poem — will lead among coast, 
island, lake, and field scenery of extraordinary interest, that will 
be sketched in the following chapter. 

Lockhart (in chapter xxxiv. of " The Life ") impressively tells 
the story of Scott's literary achievements during 1814, — almost the 
whole of the " Life of Swift," '' Waverley," the " Lord of the Isles," 
two essays (on Chivalry and the Drama) to the " Encyclopaedia 
Supplement," an annotated "limited" reprint of "The Letting of 
Hvmors Blood In The Head-Vaine," etc., by S. Rowlands, 161 1 
(small 4to, now scarce), and the " inimitable ' Memorie of the 
Somervilles^ " " with introduction and notes ; one of the most 
curious pieces of family history ever produced to the world, on 
which he labored with more than usual zeal and diligence, from his 
warm affection for the noble representative of its author." Be- 
sides performing much professional duty, he maintained an ex- 
traordinarily large private correspondence, and " superintended 
from day to day, except during his Hebridean voyage, the still 
perplexed concerns of the Ballantynes (the pubhshers), with a 
watchful assiduity that might have done credit to the most dili- 
gent of tradesmen." And after a year thus occupied, Scott went 
to Abbotsford at Christmas, "to refresh the machine," as he 
wrote; and the "refreshment" was the composition, within about 
six weeks, of that long and delightful novel, " Guy Mannering,' 
with its complicated plot ! 



''THE LORD OF THE ISLES:' I07 

XIII. 

" The Lord of the Isles." 

A PORTION of this work, as has been remarked, was written 
■^-^ at Abbotsford, in 1814, we are informed in the presence of 
Scott's family ; and a portion, indeed, " in that of casual visitors, also ; 
the original cottage which he then occupied not affording him any 
means of retirement. Neither conversation nor music seemed to 
disturb him." Qufite correctly, he said : " I could hardly have 
chosen a subject more popular in Scotland, than any thing con- 
nected with the Bruce's history, unless I had attempted that of 
Wallace." The former hero is the hero of this poem, — a work 
containing noble passages, yet, as a whole, rivalled by his more 
dazzling earlier poems. Its scene "lies, at first, in the Castle of 
Artornish, on the coast of Argyleshire ; and, afterwards, in the 
Islands of Skye and Arran, and upon the coast of Ayrshire. Finally, 
it is laid near Stirhng. The story opens in the spring of the year 
1307, when Bruce, who had been driven out of Scotland by the 
English, and the Barons who adhered to that foreign interest, re- 
turned from the Island of Rachrin on the coast of Ireland, again to 
assert his claims to the Scottish crown. Many of the personages 
and incidents introduced are of historical celebrity." 
The poem begins spiritedly : — 

" ' Wake, Maid of Lorn ! ' the Minstrels sung. 
Thy rugged halls, Artornish ! rung. 
And the dark seas, thy towers that lave, 
Heaved on the beach a softer wave, 
As 'mid the tuneful choir to keep 
The diapason of the Deep." 

Artornish, hke most of the other scenes of this poem, is upon the 
western shore of Scotland, and can be readily and agreeably 
reached by travellers during summer. Along no other equal por- 
tion of the coasts of the British Isles (or those of eastern America) 
can so interesting sea-scenery be found — in good weather, that 
occasionally exists, even in Scotland. Travellers along this west- 
ern shore, almost without exception, sometime find themselves at 
Oban, — the focal point to and from which routes thereabouts radi- 
ate. It is a notable station for steamers. From it, two or three 



J04 ''THE LORD OF THE ISLES:' 

times each week, by excellent vessels there is the readiest access 
either to Staffa and lona, or to the Sounds of Mull and Sleat, and 
the Isle of Skye or the Hebrides. 

The course towards all these places first crosses Loch Linnhe, 
and successively passes, to the north, a white Hght-house marking 
the southern end of Lismore Island, — a low, rocky point ; and, far- 
ther on, to the southward, on green and not highly rising ground of 
Mull, Duart Castle, small and gray, and quite a pretty object in the 
landscape. The Sound of Mull is then entered. Its breadth is 
favorable to picturesqueness of effect, — wide enough to give that 
of space, and not too wide to separate the shores so far as to dwarf 
the features of either. For many miles onward lies, to the south- 
ward or westward, the large, irregular island. Mull, perhaps gen- 
erally more varied, more bold, and more pleasing in its hill forms 
and aspects than the opposite coasts, — those of Morvern, the main- 
land, that are kept on the right during the whole voyage to Skye. 
Yet these latter coasts present an interesting variety of surfaces ; 
at times, very long, extensive, gradual slopes attaining an elevated 
central point. These slopes are mostly bare and grassy, and relieved 
here and there, on the lower portions only, by dark, fresh, green 
trees. Not far westward, and prominent upon the northern shore, 
may be seen Artornish Castle, situated on a low, basaltic promon- 
tory, extending rather a long distance into the Sound from steep 
hill-slopes that, not far back and away from it, are broken by high 
cliffs rising from much steeper slopes of debris. The Castle is dark- 
gray, and very ruinous. It is small now, consisting chiefly of a 
broken tower, around which appear slighter traces of outworks. Few 
travellers other than those with a wealth of leisure stop in this 
vicinity. The country is wild, lonely, weird-looking, and undoubt- 
edly could interest those who fancy such a region. Not a few 
stories are associated with it ; indeed, a portion of it was pro- 
nounced by Professor Wilson " an abyss of poetry." 

Inconsiderable as Artornish may seem now, at the time of the 
action of the poem it was an important place. Not only chief seat 
of the Lords of the Isles, it was a meeting-place of their feudal par- 
liaments, and was the scene of a league with Edward I. of England 
against the crown of Scotland. These celebrated Lords, of Scan- 
dinavian descent, held sway through all this region from the twelfth 
to the fifteenth centuries ; and indeed, in the Clan Macdonala, they 
were represented among the old Highland powers until these were 



" THE LORD OF THE ISLES.'' 105 

finally broken up. On this clan, Bruce conferred the post of honor 
in battle, — " the right." As has been told, it was during this period 
of greatness that this story opens ; when minstrels are bidding 
Edith, the proud and beautiful maid of Lorn, to rise on the auspi- 
cious morning when she should 

" Impledge her spousal faith to wed 

The heir of mighty Somerled ! 

Ronald, from many a hero sprung, 

The fair, the valiant, and the young. 

Lord of the Isles, whose lofty name 

A thousand bards have given to fame." 
"Yet, empress of this joyful day, 

Edith is sad while all are gay." 

The young lady did not appear desirous of forming this seemingly 
quite eligible alliance. Nevertheless, Lord Ronald, with a stately 
fleet and brilliant company arrived at the castle, borne thither " by 
the willing breeze." Almost simultaneously, but coming in an 
opposite direction, a small, lonely, sea-beaten bark, with difficulty 
made its way also to the castle. Possibly Sir Walter's descriptions 
of this castle exhibit poetic license : they certainly make it a large 
and imposing edifice compared with what it is now. Yet one can 
imagine it in its pride what he has imagined it, and imagine scenes 
that he has represented in it : at first, how from the comparatively 
insignificant vessel, little heeded by the Island Lord, " two bold 
brethren leapt to land ; " how the younger, a knight, bore a maiden 
" half lifeless up the rock," and, through the portcullis arch, to the 
castle guard-room ; how this younger veiled in a plaid the maiden 
whom he bore — his sister — to hide her from the "vulgar crowd ' 
of gazing vassals and servants ; and how they were at length duly 
ushered to the Baron's hall, 

" Where feasted fair and free. 
That Island Prince in nuptial tide, 
With Edith there, his lovely bride, 
And her bold brother by her side. 
And many a chief, the flower and pride 
Of Western land and sea." 

" With beakers' clang, with harpers' lay, 
With all that olden time deem'd gay " 
They "feasted high." 

Notwithstanding this festivity, Edith was sorely disquieted, and 
Ronald was flushed with 

" Emotions such as draw their birth 
From deeper source than festal mirth," 



Io6 " THE LORD OF THE ISLESy 

and many of the company were suspicious, and not amicably ob- 
servant of the strangers. Among those observant must have been 
one of the guests, De Argentine, an Enghsh knight come to assist 
in compacting the league of his country with the western barons 
who opposed the cause of the Scottish crown. And it was a stormy 
scene when the company that had suspected, unmistakably identi- 
fied one of these strangers, and, when Lord Lorn, the " confed- 
erate " leader sternly cried : " 'Tis he himself ! " — the Bruce ! 

"Then up sprang many a mainland Lord," — 
*' Barcaldine's arm is high in air, 

And Kinloch-AUine's blade is bare, 

Black Murthok's dirk has left its sheath, 

And clench'd is Dermid's hand of death. 

Their mutter'd threats of vengeance swell 

Into a wild and warlike yell ; 

Onward they press with weapons high. 

The affrighted females shriek and fly 

And, Scotland, then thy brightest ray 

Had darken'd ere its noon of day, — 

But every chief of birth and fame, 

That from the Isles of Ocean came. 

At Ronald's side that hour withstood 

Fierce Lom's relentless thirst for blood. 

Brave Torquil from Dunvegan high. 
Lord of the misty hills of Skye, 
Mac- Neil, wild Bara's ancient thane, 
Duart, of bold Clan-Gillian's strain, 
Fergus, of Canna's castled bay, 
Mac-Duffith, Lord of Colonsay, 
Soon as they saw the broadswords glance, 
With ready weapons rose at once, 
More prompt, that many an ancient feud. 
Full oft suppress'd, full oft renew'd, 
Glow'd 'twixt the chieftains of Argyle, 
And many a lord of ocean's isle. 
Wild was the scene ! " 

The war of words that thus arose forms too long a story for this 
chapter, and is best read entire. It ended with bestowal of blessing 
upon the discovered Bruce, pronounced by an abbot or " monk " 
" summon'd to unite " the betrothed, who, turning a curse into ben- 
ediction, exclaimed, 

" I bless thee, and thou shalt be bless'd 1 " 
" Avenger of thy country's shame, 
Restorer of her injured fame !" 



» THE LORD OF THE TSLESr 107 

And then the company, in general silence, withdrew ; but an- 
other quite as impassioned though less tumultuous scene ensuea. 
Lord Lorn discovered that Edith, his sister, had fled, — some said 
to the nunnery at lona to escape a possible betrothal, that she 
dreaded, with the English knight. Lorn instantly ordered pursuit 
by sea. 

" And Cormac Doil in haste obey'd, 
Hoisted his sail, his anchor weigh'd ; 
For, glad of each pretext for spoil, 
A pirate sworn was Cormac Doil." 

Later that night there was quite a different scene in the bed-cham- 
ber of the Bruce, when Ronald rather stealthily appeared there 
with " Dunvegan's chief," and both kneeled to the monarch. 

"They proffer'd aid, by arms and might, 
To repossess him in his right ; 
But well their counsels must be weigh'd, 
Ere banners raised and musters made, 
For English hire and Lorn's intrigues 
Bound many chiefs in southern leagues." 

King Robert was advised by them " to bide his time," and not to 
risk himself where he then was. So it was arranged, that, with 
Ronald, he should depart, 

" Secret and safe ... to lie 
In the far bounds of friendly Skye." 

" With Bruce and Ronald bides the tale," and thus we are con- 
ducted next to the " romantic shore " of that remote and wildest of 
islands, — Skye. 

The route now is nearly that of the two nobles. It leads north- 
westward, through the continually agreeable scenery of the Sound 
of Mull, past many picturesque hills and shores and bays. Among 
these is Tobermory ; " The Well of our Lady St. Mary," dehght- 
fully situated, and presenting, all around, great grassy slopes and 
richly wooded banks, brightened by pretty cascades. Several miles 
onward, to the right, rises the grand Point of Ardnamurchan, 
flanked south by the deep inland reach of Loch Sunart, and backed 
by the lofty, varied, acutely topped Ardnamurchan Mountains, with 
their huge, bare, lonely, and impressive Scottish Highland features. 
The chief elevation reminds one of Ben Venue. During the round- 
ing of this Point, the traveller is exposed to the full swell of the 
broad Atlantic, whose vast expanse ripples or swells or rolls, far as 
the eye can see westward. Thence the course stretches away 



loS " THE LORD OF THE ISLES:' 

about north-east, and one may look back over the dim, long, ridgy 
forms of the islands Coll and Tyree ; and to the left upon the 
nearer yet lesser form of Muck. Then next, in the latter direction, 
may be seen a long, sloping, vast wall of basaltic-appearing rock 
rising in black rehef against the sky, — the prominent feature of the 
island Eig. Coming abreast of this, one finds that it assumes a 
curious and grandly picturesque appearance. Its flank form pre- 
sents a perpendicular cliif, on every side, — "a lofty, pillar-like" 
mass "of pitch-stone porphyry," known as the Scuir of Eig, its 
terraced summit 1340 feet above sea-level. All along, beyond or 
behind it, are imposing views of the high mountains of Rum, an- 
other grand island, whose pointed crests well vary the more ridgy 
outlines of Eig. The varying effects of atmosphere and light pre- 
vailing hereabouts, will very possibly aiford the traveller some 
pleasing or startling or subhme aspect of the view. Looking oppo- 
sitely, one sees a long extent of wild mainland, rough and rocky 
enough, especially at Arasaig, where the steamers usually call ; a 
remarkable little port abounding in reefs, ledges, and points of 
sunken or low or craggy, dark, really wicked-looking rocks. 
Hardly a house is anywhere to be seen. Such httle cottages as 
there are. stone-built, and thatched with grass-grown heather, seem 
only part of the rugged fields. 

By degrees the vast, dim, Coolin Hills on Skye loom up and 
grow on the sight. The Bruce probably headed directly towards 
them, and landed at the inward end of Loch Scavaigh at their base. 
The traveller, by the steamer route, usually goes on past the point 
of Sleat (the southern end of Skye, lying to the left), and through the 
Sound of Sleat and Loch Alsh to Broadford. Much of the land- 
scape eastward along these waters is gloomily sublime and more 
attractive than are the coasts of Skye confronting it. There is a 
wonderful strangeness and grandeur about all this scenery, by 
clouded, or clear, full moonlight, by which the writer was fortunate 
enough to see it. 

One of the chief excursions on Skye is from Broadford, where 
there is, or was, quite a tolerable inn, to the " Spar Cave " on Loch 
Slapin, and thence to the landing-place of Bruce, and finally to the 
Sligachan Inn. This excursion makes a hard day's work, but a 
very interesting one, involving, beside about four miles' boating, 
nearly twenty miles' walking over a wet, rough country, and among 
the wildest of scenery. It, indeed, gives a choice of about the only 



'• THE LORD OF THE ISLES." 109 

three ways that can be said to give access to the landing-place of 
Bruce. The traveller can come by sea, and land upon a bit of low 
coast at the head of Scavaigh Bay, — the easiest route, at times ; 
or by the hill pass, called Hart-o-Corry, or Hartie Corrie, at the 
time of the writer's visit the nearest way from an inn; or by the 
shore around the Point of Strathaird, the most picturesque. This 
last was the writer's route. It leads from the curious Spar Cave 
of Strathaird, through the regions celebrated in this poem, to — long 
descent from the subhme — the Sligachan Inn, at the northern end of 
the uncommonly wild, boggy, streaming glen from which that cheer- 
ful refuge takes its name. Experience enables the writer to assure 
travellers that this route can present nature, from the depths of a 
remarkable cavern to the lonely crests of mountains, together with 
every variety of cool moisture, from a Scotch mist on the Corrie to 
a rather deep ford, or the deeper depths of the mosses in Sligachan. 
After leaving the *' Spar Cave," there is a long walk while doub- 
ling the seemingly interminable contortions of the coast lines of 
Strathaird, and then appears a lonely farm-house, Camasunary, the 
only house for a long distance that the writer remembers. It 
marks the southern end of Glen Sligachan. The route, howevei, 
leads indirectly into this fascinating valley. Introductorily, a cold 
stream must be waded, and then there must be a walk or scramble 
along a rude way for a " bittock " (perhaps two miles here) to Cor- 
uisk. A portion of this way is quite a " mauvais pas,^^ leading 
across the steep, smooth, broad face of a high mountain side, rising 
wall-like from the surging, cold, green depths of the ocean loch, 
Scavaigh, into which a single slip might plunge one. Travellers, 
however, seldom indulge in this eccentricity : certainly none of 
the writer's party attempted it. Beyond this pass, and lower, is, or 
was, a small platform from which may be gained a very effective 
view of that wilderness of waters and of land where meet the Bay 
of Scavaigh, Loch Coruisk, and the Coolin Hills. Truly, one may 
almost feel, like Ronald, — 

" These are the savage wilds that He 
North of Strathnardill and Dunskye ; 
No human foot comes here." 

And truly may the traveller there now, exclaim as did Bruce when 
he landed : — 

" Saint Mary ! what a scene is here ! 
I've traversed many a mountain strand. 



no " THE LORD OF THE ISLES:' 

Abroad, and in my native land, 
And it has been my lot to tread 
Where safety more than pleasure led , 
Thus, many a waste I've wander'd o'er, 
Clombe many a crag, cross'd many a moor, 

But, by my halidome, 
A scene so rude, so wild as this. 
Yet so sublime in barrenness, 
Ne'er did my wandering footsteps press, 

Where'er I happ'd to roam." 

These are not exaggerating words. The stern desolation of tlie 
scenery is wonderful : — 

— " Rarely human eye has known 
A scene so stern as that dread lake, 

With its dark ledge of barren stone. 
Seems that primeval earthquake's sway 
Hath rent a strange and shatter'd way 

Through the rude bosom of the hill, 
And that each naked precipice, 
Sable ravine and dark abyss, 

Tells of the outrage still. 
The wildest glen, but this, can show 
Some touch of Nature's genial glow ; 
On high Benmore green mosses grow. 
And heath-bells bud in deep Clencroe, 

And copse on Cruchan-Ben ; 
But here, — above, around, below, 

On mountain or in glen, 
Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, 
Nor aught of vegetative power, 

The weary eye may ken. 
For all is rocks at random thrown. 
Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone. 

As if were here denied 
The summer sun, the spring's sweet dew, 
That clothe with many a varied hue 

The bleakest mountain-side." 

There is not here that richness of grandeur evident along the 
western Italian coasts, but in close combinations of mountain heights 
with sea expanse, this view of Skye has few European rivals, — 
certainly it is unique in the British Isles, — and in sublime wild- 
ness it is hardly surpassed anywhere. One who looks inland, 
along the reach of Coruisk, — perhaps a mile and a half, — sees the 
huge, steep Coohn Hills, barren, desolate, and dark, — wild, bold 
forms of metallic-looking hypersthene, relieved in color and texture 
only by small patches of moss or of grass, and in shape by rifted 



" THE LORD OF THE ISLES: 

ravines, — rising abruptly from the surgin< 
cold, still, steel-gray lake ; and rearing, over three thousand feet, 
into the humid air, summits of Aiguille sharpness often fitfully 
veiled with driving mists or sullen storm-clouds. 

Eastward is the Hartie Corrie pass, a rugged hill of the moorland 
Scotch sort, perhaps a thousand feet high. Directly below one is 
the outlet of the fresh-water loch into the salt-sea bay, — a small, 
shallow, dashing stream, winding over a stony bed, perhaps two 
hundred and fifty yards long, and descending not many feet. More 
to the left, or westward, extends the bay, into which the never 
quiet — the often stormy — ocean-swell rolls impressively. Out of 
it, not far seaward, rise the island rocks of Soa. 

One has now the satisfaction that this whole scene is substan- 
tially unaltered since the Bruce, more than five centuries ago, 
according to this story, surveyed it ; and the creations of the poet 
seem at once to spring to life and action in it. 

The traveller who now looks over this wilderness, — as did the 
Bruce and Lord Ronald and their sole attendant, one " poor page," 
— can imagine them descrying five men approaching them ; men 
in the service of Lord Lorn ; imagine how as 

" Nigh came the strangers, and more nigh ; — 

Still less they pleased the Monarch's eye, 

Men were they all of evil mien, 

Down-look'd, unwilling to be seen," 
" Their arms and feet and heads were bare, 

Matted their beards, unshorn their hair; 

For arms, the caitiffs bore in hand 

A club, an axe, a rusty brand." 

They pretended to be castaways, and offered to share with the 
noble party a deer at a hut they occupied ; saying, at the same time, 
that the appearance of an English vessel had caused that of their 
proposed guests to depart. Neither this information nor the invi- 
tation was welcome, for the men were evidently churls. Yet their 
hospitality, such as it was, was accepted, — in a guarded manner 
and necessarily thus, it appeared. Alternately King and Lord 
kept watch through the night, by a fire in the hut. Then the page 
took his turn. But sleep overcame his care, — a sleep from which 
he was only awakened when 

" A ruffian's dagger finds his heart ! — 
Upward he casts his dizzy eyes, . . . 
Murmurs his master's name. . . . and diesl" 



IJ2 ''THE LORD OF THE ISLES.'" 

" Not so awoke the King ! His hand 
Snatch'd from the flame a knotted brand, 
The nearest weapon of his wrath ; 
With this he cross'd the murderer's path, 

And venged young Allan well ! " 
— " Nor rose in peace the Island Lord ; 
One caitiff died upon his sword,"' — 

and another, and another, while the Bruce stood over a prostrated 
assassin, whose hfe (as the poem shows) Fate soon cut short ; and 
thus, 

" in blood and broil, 
As he had Hved, died Cormac Doil," 

the pet pirate of Lord Lorn. The reasons why this emissary was 
thus at Skye need brief explanation : enough that his mission 
ended as all treason should end. 

" In majesty of expression," nobly opens the Fourth Canto of 
the poem, with stanzas such as one loves to rehearse amid these 
soHtary scenes, or elsewhere. 

" Stranger ! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced 

The northern realms of ancient Caledon, 

Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed. 

By lake and cataract, her lonely throne ; 

Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known, 

Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high, 

Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown 

Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry, 
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky." 

" Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes 

An awful thrill that softens into sighs , 

Such feelings rouse them by dim Raunoch's lakes. 

In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise : 

Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies. 

Chides wild Loch-Eribol his cavenis hoar — 

But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize 

Of desert dignity to that dread shore. 
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar." 

•' Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd, 
When bold halloo and bugle-blast 
Upon the breeze came loud and fast. 
' There,' said the Bruce, ' rung Edward's horn ! ' " 

And as he spoke, precipitately onward came Edward Bruce, shout- 
ing news : 

" * What make ye here. 
Warring upon the mountain deer, 
When Scotland wants her King? 



''THE LORD OF THE ISLESr il^ 

A bark from Lennox cross'd our track. 
With her in speed I hurried back, 
These joyful news to bring — 
The Stuart stirs in Teviot dale, 
The Douglas wakes his native vale ; 
The storm-toss'd fleet hath won its way 
With little loss to Brodick-Bay, 
And Lennox, with a gallant band, 
Waits but thy coming and command 
To waft them o'er to Carrick strand.' " 

Evidently the days of King Robert's exile were numbered ; his 
abided time was almost come ; Edward of England lay dead on the 
northern marches of his kingdom ; the opportunity to strike for 
Scotland was at hand. 

Short consultation ensued before the Bruce and his companions 
set sail from the Isle, bound directly to Arran, where their dispersed 
friends in arms were assembling. On their way, many loyal island 
chiefs were to be summoned to that rendezvous. And thus, depart- 
ing more joyfully than they came, they left behind " Coriskin dark 
and CooHn high." 

" Merrily, merrily bounds the bark, 
She bounds before the gale, 
The mountain breeze from Ben-na-darch 
Is joyous in her sail I ' ' 

The Clans of Sleat, and Strath, and Canna gathered at the royal 
signal, and the hunters of Ronin, and the warriors about " Scoor- 
eigg," — all to do their bidden part. 

" Merrily, merrily goes the bark 

On a breeze from the northward free, 
So shoots through the morning sky the lark, 

Or the swan through the summer sea. 
The shores of Mull on the eastward lay, 
And Ulva dark and Colonsay, 
And all the group of islets gay. 

That guard famed Staffa round." 

It is a bright day's sail, worth the sailing, over that sparkling 
sea, before a fresh, fair wind ! Its course leads along a portion of 
an excursion route now travelled from Oban (different from that to 
Skye) ; during which visits are made to the ancient and very inter- 
esting ecclesiastical ruins on lona, — an Island nobly noticed by 
Dr. Johnson in words among those that introduce these pages, — 
and then to the well-known Fingal's Cave, on Staffa. The poet's 
description of that wonderful basaltic nave of " Nature's Minste*- ' 

8 



114 ''THE LORD OF THE ISLES." 

is one of his best. As a reviewer remarked, it is " conceived in a 
mighty mind, and is expressed in a strain of poetry, clear, simple, 
and sublime ; " poetry that can now be associated with a noble 
composition in music, — Mendelssohn's "Die Hebriden." The 
majestic harmonies, and roll, and resonance, and heartfelt praise of 
this great master's notes, giving second only to reality the tre- 
mendous music of the Atlantic surges, as, ebbing and flowing in 
murmurs or in thunder roll, they sound forth the diapason of their 
voices, are well married to the poet's verses, and well express to us 
in tones the anthem Scott has written so truly ; when, after telling 
how in this story's time, 

— " Unknown " the Cavern's " columns rose, — 
Where dark and undisturb'd repose 

The cormorant had found, 
And the shy seal had quiet home," 

he sings the everlasting expressiveness of 

" that wondrous dome, 
Where, as to shame the temples deck'd 
By skill of earthly architect, 
Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise 
A Minster to her Maker's praise ! 
Not for a meaner use ascend 
Her columns, or her arches bend ; 
Nor of a theme less solemn tells 
That mighty surge that ebbs and swells, 
And still, between each awful pause, 
From the high vault an answer draws, 
In varied tone prolong'd and high, 
That mocks the organ's melody. 
Nor doth its entrance front in vain 
To old lona's holy fane. 
That Nature's voice might seem to say, 
'Well hast thou done, frail Child of clay! 
Thy humble powers that stately shrine 
Task'd high and hard, — but witness mine ! ' " 
" ' Which, when the ruins of thy pile 
Cumber the desolated isle, 
Firm and immutable shall stand, 
'Gainst winds, and waves, and spoiler's hand.'" 

The last four lines quoted do not always appear in printed copies 
of the poem, but are taken from manuscript. 

A calm sea is quite as necessary for success as for comfort on a 
voyage to Staffa. In quiet weather the island may be explored 
without much difficulty. It has an irregular oval area about a mile 
and a half in circumference, and rises in verv broken surface to an 



'' TUE LORD OF THE ISLES.'' I 15 

elevation of nearly one hundred and fifty feet above the sea. Its 
basaltic rock abounds in caves. Fingal's Cave, the largest, is 
described as having no history until as recently as 1772, when Sir 
Joseph Banks was almost accidentally directed to it, and made it 
known to civilization. It is approached on shore, and penetrated 
on foot, over smooth and slippery black rocks. During favorable 
conditions of weather and tide, boats are rowed directly into it. The 
entrance is formed, like the cave itself, of lofty columnar masses of 
basalt, rising from a mosaic-like flooring (both above and below 
water), and supporting a sort of Tudor arch, formed, like the floor- 
ing, of broken, many-angled blocks. The dimensions of the cave 
are variously given. The entire length beneath the arch is over 
two hundred feet ; the width at the entrance is from thirty-three to 
forty-two feet, decreasing to about twenty feet at the inner end ; 
and the height from mean-tide level is about sixty feet. The water 
is about twenty-five feet deep, and extraordinarily clear. A com- 
parison of the size of the cave with that of a mediaeval cathedral 
may be made by recalling the dimensions of one well known ; 
Westminster Abbey, the central part of the nave of which is one 
hundred and sixty-six feet long, thirty-five feet wide, and one hun- 
dred and three feet high. The entire interior length of the Abbey 
is five hundred and five feet. Or the size may be comparatively 
shown by an American interior, — the great aisle of Trinity Church, 
New York, which is longer, and at one end larger, than the cave. 
The height of both cave and church is about the same. Other 
comparison is unnecessary, perhaps, — stars differ from each other 
in glory. 

As before remarked, the tourist will probably visit lona during 
an excursion to Staffa. The two islands are not far apart ; and this 
sketch may notice the former, although the poet says of his hero's 
party, — 

" They paused not at Columba's isle, 
Though peal'd the bells from the holy pile 
With long and measured toll." 

This " illustrious " " luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence 
savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowl- 
edge and the blessings of religion," as the great Doctor nobly 
wrote, has small territory, occupied now by poor fisher-people, and 
by shattered ruins of edifices, especially imposing on a spot so 
remote. Instead of hearing bell-peal or chanted hymn, and see- 



Il6 '• THE LORD OF THE ISLES." 

ing venerable architecture, kept with pious care, we may no\^ 
make our way through importuning poverty to the desecrated, 
desolate precincts of a cathedral, an abbey, a monastery, and a 
burial-ground, with one large, curious, suggestive, carved cross 
of hoary, gray stone. There is less to occupy studious attention 
among these relics, than at the larger remains found upon the main- 
land. Mr. Billings's excellent "Antiquities," as also Mr. Gra- 
ham's work on lona itself, or Dr. W. L. Alexander's tract, will give 
accurate ideas of them. The edifices are not large ; their interest, 
indeed, is that of association rather than of size or of art-work. 
They are, also, rather fragmentary — evidences against iconoclas- 
tic fanaticism (though now well kept), Hke most relics of mediaeval 
art in Scotland. Past these, when in honorable completeness, the 
Bruce and his friends sailed onward, and 

Past " Scarba's isle, whose tortured shore 
Still rings to Corrievreken's roar, 
And lonely Colonsay." 

Not caring, on their way to Arran, to encounter " the southern foe- 
man's watchful fleet," in rounding the long stretch of the Mull of 
Cantyre, they sailed up West Loch Tarbet (some distance north), 
and dragged their vessel across the narrow isthmus separating its 
head from the waters of Loch Fine. Upon these they relaunched 
the vessel and bore southward. 

" The sun, ere yet he sunk behind 
Ben-Ghoil, ' the Mountain of the Wind,' 
Gave his grim peaks a greeting kind, 

And bade Loch Ranza smile. 
Thither their destined course they drew." 

And there they landed, safe, — on Arran. 

This large, wild, mountainous island can be easily reached by 
steamer from Glasgow, or by rail to Ardrossan and thence by 
steamer. A good walker needs two or three fair days for a mod- 
erate exploration of it. The traveller who follows the action of 
this story, will be led first to the landing-place of Bruce at Loch 
Ranza, on the northern end of the island. At the little convent of 
St. Bride, near by (but now disappeared), Bruce met his sister Isa- 
bel, and there 

"The lovely Maid of Loni remain'd. 
Unnamed, unknown, while Scotland far 
Resounded with the din of war." 



''THE LORD OF THE ISLES:' T17 

From this refuge the story leads the traveller — as it led Bruce 
with many welcomed armed friends — across the rugged spurs of 
" The mountain of the wind," commonly called Goatfield or Goat- 
fell, and through wild Glen Sannox (as the aged Father Augustus 
of the poem went), to Brodick Bay, about mid-distance along the 
eastern coast. There the royal adherents after awhile assembled, 
and thence, with the King, they departed in a very dramatic style, 
as the poem soon shows. 

Brodick Castle was a stronghold before the days of Bruce. The 
existing structure is modernized, yet stately ; built in grand old 
baronial style " with steep, crow-stepped gables, battlemented roofs, 
flanking turrets, and a lofty, central tower." It is a residence of 
the Dukes of Hamilton, — proprietors . of nearly all Arran. The 
Bruce was guided at nighft from the island by a beacon-signal that 
led him to his "father's hall," — Turnberry Castle, — south south- 
eastward on the mainland, the coast of Carrick. He took with him 
but a " score and ten " barges, and " thrice three-score chosen men." 

" With such small force did Bruce at last 
The die for death or empire cast ! " 

The appearance of this signal towards which the little armada 
set forth on its important voyage is a splendid passage in the 
poem : — 

" On that ruddy beacon-light 
Each steersman kept the helm aright." 

" As less and less the distance grows, 
High and more high the beacon rose ; 
The light, that seemed a twinkling star, 
Now blazed portentous, fierce, and far. 
Dark-red the heaven above it glow'd. 
Dark-red the sea beneath it flow'd, 
Red rose the rocks on ocean's brim, 
In blood-red light her islets swim ; 
Wild scream the dazzled sea-fowl gave, 
Dropp'd fi-om their crags on plashing wave. 
The deer to distant covert drew. 
The black-cock deem'd it day, and crew. 
Like some tall castle given to flame, 
O'er half the land the lustre came." , 

*' Wide o'er the sky the splendor glows, 
As that portentous meteor rose ; 
Helm, axe, and falchion glittered bright. 
And in the red and dusky light 
His comrade's face each warrior saw. 
Nor marvell'd it was pale with awe." 



llS " THE LORD OF THE ISLESr 

" ' Hush ! ' said the Bruce, ' we soon shall know. 
If this be sorcerer's empty show, 
Or stratagem of southern foe. 
The moon shines out — upon the sand 
Let every leader rank his band.' " 

" Now ask you whence that wondrous light, 
Whose fairy glow beguiled their sight ? 
It ne'er was known, — yet gray-hair'd eld 
A superstitious credence held. 
That never did a mortal hand 
Wake its broad glare on Carrick strand ; 
Nay, and that on the self-same night 
When Bruce cross'd o'er, still gleams the light ; " 

a " beam celestial, lent 
By Heaven to aid the King's descant." 

So ancient and prevalent was the belief»in the supernatural char- 
acter of this signal, that for centuries the fire was firmly thought to 
appear on anniversaries of the moment when the Bruce first saw it 
from the battlements of Brodick Castle, and that "beyond the re- 
membrance of man " the place where it appeared has been called 
" the Bogle's Brae." 

The castle of Turnberry, to which it guided, stands upon a head- 
land, or point, of the same name, rather out of ordinary tourist 
cruising-grounds, several miles south of Ayr. This point "is a 
rock projecting into the sea, the top of it about eighteen feet above 
high-water mark. Upon this rock was built the Castle," now a ruin 
rising forty or fifty feet above the sea. The castle " was surrounded 
by a ditch, but that is now nearly filled up." Even its ruined walls 
are now imposing. The Castle Park formerly extended over a 
broad plain around. The traveller may here pleasantly read Scott's 
story of the coming of the Bruce, and of those eventful scenes that 
followed. The writer hardly needs to state that the King was led 
by an accidental fire : whatever it was, it incidentally did not a 
little towards deciding his destinies. Sufficient on these pages is 
the poet's exclamation : — 

" The Bruce hath won his father's hall ! 

, ' Welcome, brave friends and comrades all, 

Welcome to mirth and joy ! 

The first, the last, is welcome here.' " 

" ' Well is our country's work begun. 
But more, far more, must yet be done. 
Speed messengers the country through ; 
Arouse old friends, and gather new ; 



''THE LORD OF THE ISLESV 119 

Warn Lanark's knights to gird their mail, 
Rouse the brave sons of Teviotdale, 
Let Ettrick's archers sharp their darts, 
The fairest forms, the truest hearts ! 
Call all, call all ! from Reedswair Path, 
To the wild confines of Cape Wrath ; 
Wide let the news through Scotland ring, 
The Northern Eagle claps his wing ! ' " 

While reading this, and more, the traveller may pleasantly fur- 
ther read how the inspiriting summons coursed over the wide land ; 
and may also read the stories of Isabel and of Edith ; for, after the 
unceremonious exposition of young ladies' private affairs already 
instituted upon these pages, a full disclosure of those pertaining 
to these two may be spared, — quite separate as the love-plot of 
this poem is from its ^ic or public plot of action. The latter 
chiefly brings " The Lord of the Isles " to its close, and with much 
magnificence of Scott's own peculiar descriptiveness. The scene 
shifts from Turnberry to the famous field of Bannockburn, near 
StirHng, and already mentioned in description of the view from the 
Castle there (chapter vii.). The poet's verses chronicle the mem- 
orable battle. They are not so extensively known or read as those 
that tell of Flodden Field in " Marmion," — a battle far less satis- 
factory to Scotchmen. We all, of course, know the general history 
of the great conflict ; but we may not experience very much profit 
and pleasure by exploration of this famous field itself, apart from 
the interest that we can but very justly and desirably feel, while 
we tread ground whereon a nation's history has been determined. 
It has, like most battle-grounds, particularly those of times long 
gone by, lost traces of the action and those features suggesting the 
details or determinative of the issues of the struggle. However, 
the distance from Stirling to Bannockburn is short, and the trav- 
eller cannot well regret a visit to it. And those who read or who 
recall there Scott's poetic chronicle of its stirring acquisition of 
glory, and of King Robert the Bruce's and of Scotland's triumph, 
may agreeably have in mind the conclusion of this poem, and trace 
the progress of the battle over scenes around, and picture the end- 
ing that was there of the maiden life of Edith of Lorn, and how 
joyously fared gallant Ronald, " ^^^ Lord of the Isles." 

The admirable work on lona by the Duke of Argyle, that has appeared since this 
chapter was written, should be mentioned here, as perhaps the most prominent worl< 
relating to that island. 



I20 ''THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.' 

XIV. 

1815. — "The Field of Waterloo." 

ipvURING this year, Scott went by sea to London with his wife 
-*-^ and daughter. He was received with much attention ; for he 
was already famous, — at a time when famous men abounded. He 
was presented to the Prince Regent, with whom he was, and con- 
tinued to be, decidedly a favorite. Soon afterward he made a tour 
to the continent, during which he visited Bergen-op-Zoom, Antwerp, 
Brussels, Waterloo, and Paris. 

The decisive victory of June 17th and i8th could but have great 
effect upon Scott as it did on all Europe. The immediate manifes- 
tation of effect upon him was his poem entitled "The Field of 
Waterloo," dedicated to Her Grace the Duchess of Wellington. 
The advertisement of this, one of his minor and less celebrated, 
and perhaps attractive, works, informs that : " It may be some 
apology for the imperfections of this poem, that it was composed 
hastily during a short tour on the Continent, when the Author's 
labors were liable to frequent interruption ; but its best apology is, 
that it was written for the purpose of assisting the Waterloo Sub- 
scription." Whatever critics think or say concerning the work as 
poetry, its author's generosity gives it charms compensating for 
demerits that may have been attributed to it. The profits of the 
first edition formed Scott's contribution to this "subscription," — 
a fund "for the rehef of widows and children of the soldiers slain 
in the battle ; " and thus he, as poet, a second time, was by no 
means among the smaller donors to a patriotic provision. Persons 
who visit that now most visited of European battle-fields, Waterloo, 
and thus, usually, many places in its vicinity, — grand, old, pic- 
turesque, and storied Flemish cities, — and who thus see many 
objects associated with some of the most stirring inr idents of 
modern or late middle-age history, may rather regret that the 
genius of the great poet of place and romantic picturesqueness did 
not give us some composition from the abundant and intensely 
interesting materials that are everywhere presented. But he was, 
with all his power, a mortal man ; and his labors could but be 
finite. We had best be quiet, and thankful for the immensity 



'' HAROLD THE dauntless:^ 121 

of richness and enjoyment he has actually provided for us, and be 
abundantly satisfied since the brilliant pages of Prescott and of 
Motley present to us so much of these materials with the truth of 
history invested with the fascinations of romance. Each to his own 
work ; and each of these three authors has been nobly true to his 
own. 

During this same year Scott was introduced to many distin- 
guished men ; among these, to the Emperor Alexander of Russia, 
and to the Duke of Wellington. The Duke's kind attention then, 
and afterwards, Scott often said he considered " the highest dis- 
tinction of his Hfe." And he further said, that he "had seen 
and conversed with all classes of society, from the palace to the 
cottage, and including every conceivable shade of science and 
ignorance ; but that he had never felt awed or abashed except in 
the presence of one man, — the Duke of Welhngton." 



XV. 

"Harold the Dauntless." 

" I ^HIS poem, the last of the greater poems by Scott, was pub- 
-■- lished in January, 1817, although it had been begun years 
previously. It appeared almost simultaneously with some of his 
renowned romances, that, by their more brilliant fame have tended 
to obscure it. In bookseller's phrase it met with "considerable suc- 
cess," yet it has never been considered, as a whole, equal to the 
" Bridal." The first of its six Cantos begins, by at once introduc- 
ing the subject : — 

" List to the valorous deeds that were done 
By Harold the Dauntless, Count Witikind's son ! " 

" Count Witikind came of a regal strain, 
And roved with his Norsemen the land and the main. 
Woe to the realms which he coasted ! for there 
Was shedding of blood, and rending of hair, 
Rape of maiden, and slaughter of priest, 
Gathering of ravens and wolves to the feast : 
When he hoisted his standard black. 
Before him was battle, behind him was wrack, 
And he bum'd the churches, that heathen Dane 
To light his band to their barks again." 



132 ''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS:' 

He flourished before the reign of William I., and was one of those 
fierce pagan sea-rovers, the scourge and terror of long extents of 
European coasts, during many generations. 

"He liked the wealth of fair England so well, 
That he sought in her bosom as native to dwell. 
He enter'd the Humber in fearful hour, 
And disembark'd with his Danish power." 

In this respect, he acted as the sea-kings were wont ; and, as fre- 
quently occurred, his hostility was appeased, his forbearance bought, 

" And the Count took upon him the peaceable style 
Of a vassal and hegeman of Britain's broad isle." 

After years of peace, he gradually became old and feeble, until, 
on the principle pithily set forth in the old lines, — 

" When the Devil was sick 
The Devil a monk would be," 

he endeavored to make reconciliation with the church he had often 
robbed, and to atone for his sins when, at last, he would lose noth- 
ing temporally by repentance. The result was one not infrequently 
produced by tardy contrition and priestly influence, especially dur- 
ing the Middle Ages. 

" Saint Cuthbert's Bishop " induced the Count to make a change 
of faith, and the Count changed it in such a manner, that, 

" Broad lands he gave him on Tyne and Wear, 
To be held by the church by bridle and spear ; 
Part of Monkwearmouth, of Tjmedale part, 
To better his will, and to soften his heart." 

In " the high church of Durham," 

" He kneel'd before Saint Cuthbert's shrine, 
With patience unwonted at rites divine ; 
He abjured the gods of heathen race." 

But the Count had a son, " Young Harold," with " strength of 
frame and" "fury of mood," who deemed that he had something 
to say and to decide in the bestowal of the paternal estate. And he 
undutifully addressed his father in this wise : — 

" ' What priest-led hypocrite art thou. 
With thy humbled look and thy monkish brow. 
Like a shaveling who studies to cheat his vow? 
Canst thou be Witikind the Waster known. 
Royal Eric's fearless son. 
Haughty Gunhilda's haughtier lord, 
Who won his bride by the axe and sword ! ' " 



''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS: 



23 



But this, and more similar talk, aroused the aged man's native 
spirit : — 

" Ireful waxed old Witikind's look, 

His faltering voice with fury shook : 
' Hear me, Harold of harden'd heart ! 

Stubborn and wilful ever thou wert.' 
' Just is the debt of repentance I've paid, 

Richly the Church has a recompense made.' " 

The son, however, was little appeased by such a strain. Disdain- 
ful and angry, vowing ruth and ruin, flinging down a cross, — symbol 
of his own disinheriting he seems to have deemed it, — he left the 
paternal presence, for ever, he declared. 

" Thus in scorn and in wrath from his father is gone 
Young Harold the Dauntless, Count Witikind's son." 

While there was feasting in Witikind's hall, this son wandered, 
" accursed by the Church, and expell'd by his sire." But, " heeding 
full Httle of ban or of curse," he robbed the Prior of Jorvaux of his 
purse, and an abbot of his robe, and a bishop of a gay palfrey, and 
set forth afresh, accompanied by " flaxen-hair'd Gunnar," who had 
been brought up in his train, and who now persisted in accompany- 
ing him as his page. Years passed away, and with them, prelate 
and count, and the latter, 

" All his gold and his goods hath he given 
To holy Church for the love of Heaven. " 

Of his son it is said : — 

" ' Harold is tameless, and furious, and bold ; 
Ever Renown blows a note of fame. 
And a note of fear, when she sounds his name.' " 

So the Chapter pronounced " their doom : 
That the Church should the lands of Saint Cuthbert resume." 

" 'Tis merry in greenwood, — thus runs the old lay, — 
In the gladsome month of lively May, 
When the wild bird's song on stem and spray 
Invites to forest bower." 

Thus begins the Second Canto, introducing the heroine of the 
poem : — - 

" Fair Metelill was a woodland maid. 
Her father a rover of greenwood shade, 
By forest statutes undismayed, 

Who lived by bow and quiver." 
" Jutta of Rookhope " was " the Outlaw's dauie," 
Fear'd when she frown'd was her eye of flame, 
More fear'd when in wrath she laugh'd." 



124 ''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS^ 

" Yet had this fierce and dreaded pair. 
So Heaven decreed, a daughter fair ; " 

"naught of fraud or ire or ill, 
Was known to gentle Metelill, — 

A simple maiden she ; 
The spells in dimpled smile that lie, 
And a downcast blush, and the darts that fly 
With the sidelong glance of a hazel eye, 

Were her arms and witchery." 

And, " array'd in kirtle green," this very pretty girl, braiding " with 
flowers her locks of jet," was one morning sitting by a forest foun- 
tain, singing a bright and pleasant song, when a mailed knight, 
whose accent was stern, appeared ; and, unbarring his helmet visor, 
and laying his gauntleted hand upon her "shrinking shoulder," 
bluntly accosted her : — 

" ' Damsel,' he said, 'be wise and learn 
Matters of weight and deep concern: 

From distant realms I come. 
And, wanderer long, at length have plann'd 
In this my native Northern land 

To seek myself a home. 
Nor that alone, — a mate I seek ; 
She must be gentle, soft, and meek, — 

No lordly dame for me ; 
Myself am something rough of mood, 
And feel the fire of royal blood. 
And therefore do not hold it good 

To match in my degree.' '' 

His proposals became very definite and personal, and thus also 
his attentions, particularly when he attempted to kiss the pretty 
Metelill, who, at that juncture, contrived to escape him and to dash 
home. There, though she did not tell her adventure, her observ- 
ant and formidable parents prepared for any emergencies, and quite 
wisely ; for soon the house-door flew open, and the knight — Harold 
the Dauntless — strode in. To the parents he repeated his offer, but 
with no more success ; whereupon, he ominously departed. The 
unfortunate girl, for being innocently the cause of disturbance 
made and portended, was summarily sent to bed, while her severe 
parents savagely scolded each other. Succeeding this domestic 
scene was an unlawful magic and pagan incantation by the old 
witch Jutta, who thus invoked the evil spirit Zernebock to ruin 
Harold. This summoned spirit bade her her " arts of mahce whet," 
and to " involve him with the Church in strife." The dame, incensed 



'' HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS:' ; zz, 

at the little apparent aid given her, and at what she thought the 
slight influences mentioned, positively reviled the spirit, saying : — 

" ' Hence ! to the land of fog and waste, 
There fittest is thine influence placed, 
Thou powerless, sluggish Deity ! ' " 

She was almost correct in believing that she could contrive more 
mischief than he. 

The next Canto, the Third, abounding in allusion to gods and 
men of the wild North, chiefly shows how Harold did begin to 
become involved in strife with the Church ; and also, curiously, 
with his page Gunnar, who sang him a cunning song, the burden 
of which was the desirableness of a Danish maid for a Danish 
knight, like him. With such effect was the singing, that he con- 
fessed, — 

" ' Half could I wish my choice had been 
Blue eyes and hair of golden sheen.' " 

He, however, could not help asking what objections were possi- 
ble to the fair Metelill. The page, replying, insinuated that a suitor 
should provide " lands and a dwelling for his bride," and quoted 
words of Jutta to this intent, coupled with allusions that made Har- 
old start up and vow : — 

" ' The castle, hall and tower, is mine, 
Built by old Witikind on Tyne. 
The wild-cat will defend his den, 
Fights for her nest the timid wren ; 
And think'st thou I'll forego my right 
For dread of monk or monkish knight ? ' '* 

And thus, as the poet adds, — 

" Now shift the scene, and let the curtain fall. 
And our next entry be Saint Cuthbert's hall." 

Accordingly the action of the story leads to Durham Cathedral, 
the chief (if not the only) " local habitation " of this creation of the 
poet, who addresses it in these noble lines : — 

" Gray towers of Durham 1 " 
" Well yet I love thy mix'd and massive piles. 

Half church of God, half castle 'gainst the Scot, 
And long to roam these venerable aisles, 

With records stored of deeds long since forgot.'' 

" Full many a bard hath sung the solemn gloom 
Of the long Gothic aisle and stone-ribb'd roof, 
O'ercanopying shrine, and gorgeous tomb. 
Carved screen, and altar glimmering far aloof. 



126 ''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS.'' 

And blending with the shade — a matchless proof 
Of high devotion, which hath now wax'd cold." 

Those who go through the northern counties can experience 
much satisfaction during a visit, even of a few hours only, to this 
ancient Episcopal city, Durham. The cathedral church there, like 
every other, has its own peculiar characteristics and features of 
interest. It is a grand and venerable edifice, — one of the noblest, 
indeed, in the three kingdoms, — dating back so nearly to the time 
of this story, and so suggestive and illustrative of that time that it 
can properly be visited, or described, as the chief scene of Harold's 
exploits. 

Few similar structures present a more imposing appearance in 
design and site. The latter is a platform on the crest of an 
almost precipitous bank that rises upwards of eighty feet directly 
above the River Wear. Northward, across a broad, open area, and 
also upon the height, is the yellowish-sandstone, turreted, and bat- 
tlemented castle, — now a university, — a large and picturesque 
pile, with a stately court-yard. 

On the most elevated ground, and dominant over all things, — 
like the faith it symbohzes, — rises the cathedral, Norman in style, 
mighty, massive, lofty, and nobly beautiful, with triple towers, and 
curiously enriched west front. Its once brown-yellow walls are 
gray from centuries of exposure, except, as on the central tower, 
where refacings show fresher tints. Much of the architecture is 
austerely simple. The windows are small, and round-arched. 
The doorways, richly pillared and moulded, are decaying. Trees 
growing along the rocky bank, above the placid, pleasant river, 
give grace and relieving color to the strong, the almost sublime, 
forms around them. The " Galilee Porch," at the west front, is an 
appropriate entrance-vestibule to the varied interiors of the edifice, 
of which it is, perhaps, the chief peculiarity. Although one of the 
archaeological and art treasures of the kingdom, it hardly escaped 
destruction by the stupid insensibility of the real Dark Age of 
architectural art, the last century. This Galilee, measuring nearly 
eighty feet from north to south, and about fifty feet from west to 
east, has five aisles, divided by four rows, having three each, of 
slender clustered or coupled pillars, ranging eastward, and bearing 
round arches decorated with very sharp tooth mouldings. The 
roof is simple. The walls are of rudely faced stones. From the 
windows are delightful views. This unusual apartment, the Lady 



HAROLD TEE DAUNTLESS. 



-I 



Chapel practically, was built especially as a place of worship for 
women, who were not admitted into the main church, on account 
of a violent antipathy for the sex felt by its patron saint, the re- 
puted Anthony-like-tempted Cuthbert. 

From this porch, the visitor ascends a few steps, and enters the 
nave of the church, — awed at once by its ponderous, its sublime 
Norman grandeur, — rising high and in the repose of almost Cyclo- 
pean greatness and strength. There is scarcely another such 
impressive example of the style ; for this surpasses even the maj- 
esty of Ely and of Peterborough. This nave presents three aisles, 
divided by ranges of enormous pillars, twenty-three feet in girth, 
alternately circular or clustered, carved with zigzag fiutings or 
narrow spirals, and bearing heavy round arches carved in zigzags. 
Triforium and clere-story and vaulting are of harmonious design. 
The interior, at the time of the writer's visit, was washed a yellowish 
no-color, — a testimony against the ages of desecration. There is, 
or lately was, little stained glass, — a decoration much needed. 
The central tower is evidently of later work ; it has a lofty groined 
roof. The choir, entirely open from the nave, has thus a grand 
effect. The altar screen is in very elegant pointed style ; each of 
its parts springs as high as it well can. Across the east end of the 
church is an unusual oblong division, resembling one at Peter- 
borough, but much larger and higher, and having a good but not 
so fine a roof. The style is pointed, and rather late. The common 
name of this division, in the customary place of the Lady Chapel, 
is the Chapel of the Nine Altars, — the number that once were in 
it. In it was the shrine of Saint Cuthbert, formerly one of the 
richest in Britain. All these evidences of ancient piety are now 
dismantled or destroyed ; and the place has a bare, forlorn appear- 
ance. The monuments in the cathedral are not remarkable : Hen- 
ry VIII. or other iconoclast despoiled them. South of the great 
church are the pleasant cloisters. Their stone arch-screens have 
simple stone traceries : their roofs, of oak, are flat, and divided rec- 
tangularly by large mouldings, and lately show effects of age and 
dampness. From the cloisters the so-called crypt is entered, — a 
large, dry apartment, in fair order, and neither dark nor otherwise 
quite like a crypt ; for it is not built beneath the church ; that 
being, like the wise man's house, founded on a rock. The Chapter 
House — or the httle of it remaining — opens also from the cloisters. 
It is, or lately was, in an unsatisfactory condition. It was origi- 



I2S ''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS^ 

nally a noble, round-arched, Norman apartment, oblong, and with 
an apsidal upper end, built about the year 1136. In the last cen- 
tury, nearly all of it was barbarously demolished by nominal Chris- 
tians, who appear to have been less thoroughly converted than was 
Count Witikind, or even his amiable son. 

This cathedral of Durham, like nearly every other in Europe, 
has latterly received extensive repairs and "restorations." The 
dates of its original erection, however, as has been before stated. 
are so early, and the existing amount of ancient work and effect is so 
great, that the action of " Harold " can well be imagined within it. 
It was begun in 1093, by Bishop William de Carilepho. In about 
thirty years the walls were nearly completed. The internal vaulted 
roofs were not, however, entirely finished, it is said, until the latter 
part of the thirteenth century, and the altar-screen and cloisters 
about a hundred years later. The ground-form of the structure — 
of course that of a cross extending from east to west — is quite 
regular. The dimensions are variously given ; but for a general 
estimate of size, the extreme inside length may be considered near- 
ly five hundred feet, and that of the transepts one hundred and 
seventy feet. The nave is about eighty feet wide ; and the vaulted 
arch of its central aisle is about seventy feet high. The two western 
towers are about one hundred and sixty feet high ; and the central 
tower two hundred and sixteen feet, — to which their elevated site 
gives an effect of much greater altitude. 

The Fourth Canto of the poem opens with a scene that can well be 
imagined amid this venerable, sombre, and expressive architecture. 

— " the chapter was met, 
And rood and books in seemly order set ; 
Huge brass-clasp'd volumes, which the hand 
Of studious priest but rarely scann'd, 
Now on fair carved desk display'd, 
'Twas theirs the solemn scene to aid. 
O'erhead with many a scutcheon graced, 
And quaint devices interlaced, 
A labyrinth of crossing rows. 
The roof in lessening arches shows ; 
Beneath its shade placed proud and high, 
With footstool and with canopy, 
Sate Aldingar, — and prelate ne'er 
More haughty graced Saint Cuthbert's chair ; 
Canons and deacons were placed below, 
In due degree and lengthen'd row, 
Unmoved and silent each sat there, 
Like image in his oaken chair : 



129 



''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS^ 

Nor head, nor hand, nor foot they stirr'd, 
Nor lock of hair, nor tress of beard ; 
And of their eyes severe alone 
The twinkle show'd they were not stone." 

The prelate was addressing these churchmen, thus gathered^ 
when in strode Harold the Dauntless, " come to sue for the lands 
which his ancestors won." 

" The Prelate look'd round him with sore troubled eye, 
Unwilling to grant, yet afraid to deny." 

Finally, mustering courage, he asserted, that " the Church hath no 
fiefs for an unchristen'd Dane." Count Witikind's estates, he said, 
had been given very properly, " that the priests of a chantry might 
hymn him to heaven." Anthony Conyers and Alberic Vere held 
them for the holy See, Harold was told, as he was bidden to go in 
peace. 

" Loud laughed the stem Pagan, — ' They're free from the care 
Of fief and of sen'ice, both Conyers and Vere, — 
Six feet of your chancel is all they will need, 
A buckler of stone, and a corslet of lead. — 
Ho, Gunnar ! — the tokens ; ' — and, sever'd anew, 
A head and a hand on the altar he threw. 
Then shudder'd with terror both Canon and Monk, 
They knew the glazed eye and the countenance shrunk, 
And of Anthony Conyers the half-grizzled hair, 
And the scar on the hand of Sir Alberic Vere. 
There was not a churchman or priest that was there. 
But grew pale at the sight, and betook him to prayer." 

Count Harold laughed at their fear, and their champions. And t( 
show them his strength, with a single sweeping blow of his club he 
" split King Osric's monument." Then granting them a brief period 
for making decision on his claim, he strode from their presence. 

Thus did the acquisitive Church, of old, sometimes gain wealth 
and property, and thus sometimes find these hazarded ; and, as 
follows, sometimes seek to retain possession. In the conclave, the 
Cellarer Vinsauf proposed to intoxicate Harold, and then to fetter 
and imprison him. Walwayn, the leech, by poison would give him 
" a dog's death and a heathen's grave." 

" ' Such service done in fervent zeal 
The Church may pardon and conceal,' 
The doubtful Prelate said, 'but ne'er 
The counsel ere the act should hear.' " 

Anselm, Prior of Jarrow, then proposed that Harold should be 
asked to show a " proof of his chivalry " by an adventure to a 

9 



130 '' HAROLD THE DAUNT LESS:' 

certain " Castle of Seven Shields." But Harold, striding back, 
interrupted the council. The Bishop received him with a tempo- 
rizing speech, the issue of which was, that the powers of music and 
strategy were practised upon the fearful Count, and Hugh Mene- 
ville the Minstrel sang the ballad, "The Castle of the Seven 
Shields." 

This castle cannot be discovered by antiquarian search. It 
seems to have been one of the rather plentiful works of that great 
master-mason the Devil, who very likely has taken it off, since it 
was made to serve his purpose ; for neither map nor guide appears 
to give clew to it. The ballad about it is somewhat long, and is 
cunningly worded. Harold, instantly upon hearing this, determined 
to seek the castle, to enter its spell-bound precincts, and to seize 
much treasure said to be kept awfully guarded within it. The song 
was a shrewd device of the keen-witted clergy. Away to the 
castle, reckless as ever, the Count went, accompanied by his page 
Gunnar. On the route, he encountered a Palmer, with whose 
appearance was connected a strange and dreadful monitory inter- 
view, in which were displayed some of the seemingly preternatural 
powers of the Church, and its art of impressing these effectively in 
an age prone to receive and feel expressions and supposed words 
of another world, and priestly translations of its mysteries. And 
such was the intensity of influence thus exercised on the fierce 
Count, that he owned that his "heart beat thick as a fugitive's 
tread." He even was about drinking from a flask filled by Wal- 
wayn with a potent drink and given him that he might keep his 
spirits up, when the music of an advancing bridal procession caused 
him to pause. Onward it came with singing ; and the burden was 
"Joy to the fair Metelill ! " Harold stood concealed above its path- 
way, watching with increasing rage. A favored suitor — Lord Wil- 
liam of Wilton — was with her whom he had once sought should be 
his ! Rending a great fragment from the cliff beside him, he 
hurled it, 

" And nought of Wulfstane rests behind, 

Save that beneath that stone, 
Half buried in the dinted clay, 
A red and shapeless mass there lay 

Of mingled flesh and bone ! " 

In another moment Harold was darting down to the plain, and very 
soon was besetting the bride^oom, and with deadhest intent ; 



"HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS." 13: 

when, through intercession of his page, and appeal to warning 
given by the Pahner, his fatal mace was dropped ; — 

" And fierce Witikind's son made one step towards heaven." 

He had paused in his anger, and ruled himself for once. 

*' But though his dreaded footsteps part, 
Death is behind, and shakes his dart ; 
Lord WilHam on the plain is lying, 
Beside him Metelill seems dying ! " 

Jutta, however, was quite ahve, and seeking to restore them. She 
had found the flask filled by Walwayn, and was about administering 
to them its contents, when sagaciously she attempted to prove the 
liquid " ere pouring it for those she loves." Well for them that 
she did — 

" For when three drops the hag had tasted, 
So dismal was her yell, 
Each bird of evil omen woke." 

And when their roused cries died away, 

" The sorceress on the ground lay dead." 

In fact, the two ill-conditioned, indesirable parents were despatched 
in a very expeditious and story-bookish manner, yet Httle to the 
advantage of the hapless lovers. 

Onward went Count Harold, as he had proposed, to the "fiend- 
built towers " of the Castle of the Seven Shields. A great, gloomy, 
fearful place he at length found it. The Sixth Canto of the poem, 
that tells of it, is poetry to read with true eflfect in the most haunted- 
looking castle vault the traveller can find. The moral of the fable 
is profound and solemn, as it tells of this dread place, and of a des- 
perate conflict in which Count Harold there became engaged, — 
when " the mortal and the demon close." It is a more evident 
allegory, expressed in romance, than even that in " The Bridal " 
(though possibly, yet not quite probably, the poet did not mean it). 
There is more precious truth, even, in the motives of the conflict, 
and in the victory Count Harold — ctout in heart and hand — 
achieved, when he overcame the Fiend and bore forth " to light, 
to liberty, and life," the form of Gunnar, his faithful attendant, who 
had been seized by the great Adversary ; and when he restored that 
loving and faithful one to consciousness that had been lost, and 
learned reality, and " inly said " : — 



1^2 ''HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS." 

" ' That silken tress, — 
What blindness mine, that could not guess 1 
Or how could page's rugged dress 

That bosom's pride belie ? 
Oh, dull of heart, through wild and wave 
In search of blood and death to rave, 

With such a partner nigh ! ' " 

One need not here analyze or expound : this canto is only another 
rendering of the old, strange, mighty story of the conflict of Good 
and of Evil told some way by records of nearly every faith, and 
by compositions of many a great author. 

The poem closes a few lines after, yet it tells a sequel, and tells 
enough. Harold the Dauntless, washing from himself the stains 
of the conflict, and become an altered, a new man, purified and 
ennobled, 

" Raised the blushing maid, — 
In blunt and honest terms he said : " 
*' ' Since thou for many a day 

Hast followed Harold's waj'ward way, 

It is but meet that in the line 

Of after life I follow thine. 

To-morrow is Saint Cuthbert's tide, 

And we will grace his altar's side, 

A Christian knight and Christian bride ; 
And of Witikind's son shall the marvel be said, 
That on the same morn he was chrlsten'd and wed." 

Thus ends this poem, so illustrative of the early times of the 
Church in England, and of characters then forming or growing into 
the great composite people her inhabitants have become, — a poem 
so illustrative, in romantic style, of troubled mediaeval times that 
are nowhere more forcibly presented now, than in their imposing 
and enduring expressions existing on the castle and church-crowned 
heights of Durham, — the only definable scene, as before stated, 
that can be associated with " Harold the Dauntless." And a noble 
moral of a solemn and profound subject in the fable — one hardly 
to be discussed here — can be nowhere read or thought of with 
more propriety or effect, than amid the shades of the venerable 
and subhme Cathedral of Saint Cuthbert. 

At this befitting and now sacredly kept shrine of the majesty and 
of the attractiveness of the olden time, we may turn from the poetic 
creations of the Great Magician that so delightfully and worthily 
present portions of both those aspects to us. In few other places 
associated with those creations can there be more complete reahza- 



RETROSPECT OF THE POEMS. 1 33 

tion of our wide removal from the past of which he sings, and 
also of the connection that we yet maintain with it. Scarcely else- 
where have we more evident realization of his revivifying power, 
and of the mighty, or the uncultured yet earnest, spirit of the 
Middle Age, than beneath the 

" reverend . . . face of this tall pile, 
Whose ancient pillars rear their . . . heads 
To bear aloft its arch'd and ponderous roof, 
By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, 
Looking tranquillity ! " 

But, as the poet asks in the conclusion of " Marmion," — "Why 
then a final note prolong " ? 

The tour that leads through the places introduced by the poems 
of Walter Scott is a pleasant tour indeed. Whoever follows the 
clew his verses lay can hardly fail of experiencing much enjoyment 
The Lands of the Great Magician have, however, been but quite 
incompletely explored when only the places already sketched have 
been visited. On pages following, a tour is described that leads 
through the many scenes associated with the chief incidents of 
stories told in those of his prose works, that perhaps confer wider 
and more lasting fame on their great author, — "The Waverle\ 
Novels," related to modern romance as are the creations of 
William Shakespeare to all dramatic literature. 



XVI. 

Retrospect of the Poems. 

'T^HIS work — a series of sketches of those scenes rendered 
-■- celebrated by Walter Scott, and thus, also, of the stories of 
his creations — is hardly one of critical essays, requiring further 
analysis of the poems that have been described in it. 

Each reader will have individual fancies, preferences, and opin- 
ions ; and few will be likely to care much for very digressive dis- 
sertations here on comparative merits or faults, or expositions of 
character. In brief summary of general qualities, it may perhaps 
be sufficient to remark that " The Lay " furnishes the most favorite 



134 RETRVSPECT OF THE POEMS. 

passages, and possibly the most intense Scotticism ; " Marmion " 
is the most stirring, and has the best introductory passages ; " The 
Lady of the Lake " is the most graceful and generally pleasing ; 
" Rokeby " may be considered the most elaborated and finished 
story, and " The Bridal " the most romantic ; and " The Lord of 
the Isles" conducts us amid the grandest natural scenery. Scott 
himself wrote to James Ballantyne (Oct. 28, 18 12): "I would say, 
if it is fair for me to say any thing, that the force in the ' Lay ' is 
thrown on style ; in ' Marmion,' on description ; and in the ' Lady 
of the Lake,' on incident." Concerning the heroines of the poems, 
we must remember the old saying about comparisons, the fact that 
expression of preferences is not always necessary for any one of a 
dozen admirable young ladies, and the dangers that have beset 
judicial or critical decisions on feminine beauty, at least since the 
memorable ruhng by Paris. Among the masculine characters of 
Scott's poems (and novels, also), the rascals appear to be oftener 
English than Scotch, and the good men are not always as interest- 
ing or as active as those who are not strictly virtuous. Though 
" Rokeby " may show most of human character, and though all 
these poems are vividly illustrative of distinguishing features of the 
times of which they treat, yet the Scotch stories are pre-eminently 
graphic. The poet's affections, it is evident, are strongly attached 
to his native land, — to the pleasant Border regions, and to the wild 
streams, the heathery hills, the misty mountains, and the grand 
isles of the North. There need be here no discussion respecting 
the comparative permanence of vitality in the poems of Scott, and 
in those of other great poets. One fact — a fact that suggested use 
of the clew his works furnish — remains, and quite Hkely will long 
continue to remain, — the fact that no other series of imaginative 
creations by one writer conducts as does his through so many de- 
lightful scenes so distinctively associated with them, where both 
works and scenes better entertain the mind and the imagination 
with thoughts or fancies of the great world of Nature and of the sto- 
ried Past. And not simply of the Past, for no small part of the power 
and significance of these works is lost to one who reads them — one 
is indeed susceptible of improvement — who cannot perceive and 
receive in them, however much they are creations of Imagination, 
not only entertainment or pleasure, but also many suggestive lessons 
for daily thought and feeling and living, — all which are agreeably 
furnished to us in the poetic, and prose, romances of Walter Scott. 



THE PROSE ROMANCES. 



THE BEGINNING OF THE TOUR THROUGH THE 
LANDS OF SCOTT 



THE PROSE ROMANCES. 



XVII. 



The Beginning of the Tour through the Lands of 
Scott. 

THE poems of Walter Scott, and scenes associated with them 
have, in these chapters, been sketched in the order in which 
he successively presented them to the world. In further de- 
scriptions, a different arrangement — already mentioned — will be 
adopted, by which the scenes of his Prose Romances are sketched 
in an order that travellers may find perhaps as practicable as any 
for visits to them ; and, also connectedly with them, to the scenes 
of his poems. Visits to all portions of the Great Magician's do- 
mains form a tour through nearly every part of Scotland, through 
much of England, a portion of Wales and of the Isle of Man, of 
Belgium and France, and of Swiss and upper Rhine country, and 
even of the far East. 

Those who go northward in Great Britain, as travellers usually 
go (especially American), after visiting the northern Midland of 
England, or after leaving steamer at Liverpool, will find a pleasant 
route from Lancaster to Furness Abbey, a noble ruin charmingly 
kept. Thence the route may be agreeably by rail to Coniston 
Water Head, a very picturesque place, and then to Ambleside, by 
carriage ; or, from Furness it may be by carriage to Newby Bridge, 
and, by steamer, to Ambleside at the opposite or northern end of 
Windermere ; and thus all of this " Queen of English Lakes " may 
be seen. From Ambleside the route may be continued through the 
Lake District ; first, past Rydal, with its memories of Wordsworth, 
to Patterdale. Thence it may lead to Keswick. From either of 
these last two places (better from the last) the scenes of The 
Bridal of Triermain, mentioned in chapter xi., can be advanta- 
geously visited, — the Valley of Saint John, Ulleswater, Lyulph's 



[38 THE BEGINiVJ^G OF THE TOUR. 

Tower, and Helvellyn, all worth exploring. From Keswick also, 
there may be readily excursions to Skiddaw, Saddleback, Derwent- 
vvater, Borrowdale, and Scawfell Pike (the highest mountain in 
England, three thousand one hundred and sixty-six feet elevation). 
From the Lake District, travellers may go to Penrith, and there 
see the remains of its castle, and of King Arthur's Round Table. 
Thence they may go by train to Carlisle. From that ancient city, 
mteresting excursions may also be made. Certain of these excur- 
eions are into scenery associated with Scott's creations. All this 
can be seen in two or three days, if time is short, and will be de- 
scribed in the four chapters succeeding the next, in which, prelimi- 
narily, is some sketch of the first published of his Prose Romances, 
that has, from its title, supplied the well-known name of the famous 
series that followed it — " The Waverley Novels." 



XVIII. 

" Waverley ; OR, 'tis Sixty Years Since." 

'T^HIS "Immortal Tale" was published July 7, 1814. Its sale 
-*- from the first was unprecedentedly rapid ; yet it increased 
in favor with the world, so that during twenty years fully fifty 
thousand copies were sold, and at prices much higher than those 
now obtained for novels. It was begun, as Scott tells us, 
"about the year 1805," and was even advertised under the title, 
"Waverley; or, 'tis Fifty Years Since." It was, however, aban- 
doned after about one-third had been written, and the manuscript 
was laid aside. After many years of poem- writing, Scott was influ- 
enced to turn his attention to another class of composition ; and 
this neglected, or more truly then missing, fragment was brought 
to light, and the work was resumed, completed, and presented to 
the public as has been mentioned. A good thought of Scott pro- 
duced this happy result. He observed how the excellent stories of 
Miss Edgeworth had done much towards rendering English people 
famihar with Irish character; and that she had thus even "done 
more toward completing the union, than perhaps all the legislative 
enactments by which it" had "been followed up." Furthermore, 
he said, that " early recollections of the Highland scenery and 
customs made so favorable an impression in the poem called ' The 
Lady of the Lake,' that I was induced to think of attempting some- 
thing of the same kind in prose. I had been a good deal in the 
Highlands at a time when they were much less accessible, and 
much less visited, than they have been of late years, and was 
acquainted with many of the old warriors of 1745, who were, like 
most veterans, easily induced to fight their battles over again, for 
the benefit of a willing listener like myself" And thus, with patri- 
otic feeling, and especial training, he composed this masterly de- 
lineation of phases of old-time life rapidly passing away ; a dehnea- 



140 ''WAVERLEY; OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE.'' 

tion by which he not only made a great number of persons bettei 
acquainted with many Scottish affairs, and rendered these charming 
to them, but by which he also gave the world an admirable historic, 
as well as romantic, illustration of life and manners in his native 
land during the great "affair" of 1745, — the last (be it alway the 
last) great civil conflict in Britain. 

These pages will not contain too full an exposition of the entire 
plots of the novels. Readers who are acquainted with them will 
remember them ; and those who have yet to obtain the pleasure of 
a first perusal can have small thanks for such tale-telling. The 
scenes with which these plots are chiefly associated will be sketched, 
in order that, possibly, some persons may be aided, either in find- 
ing these scenes, therein to enjoy personal fancies ; or, if elsewhere, 
In learning something of objects associated with the development 
of the power, or, with the achievements, of the great Genius of 
Romance. 

" Waverley" is more representative of general classes of charac- 
ters and objects than are many others of 'Scott's historical novels. 
The locafities of its action are often ideal, — typical of the general 
description of the places they represent, and not actual, like Nor- 
ham, or Tantallon, or Flodden Field ; and furthermore, they are so 
scattered, that an enumeration of them forms a chapter of necessa- 
rily rather disconnected items. The story introduces us to Edward 
Waverley, son of Richard Waverley, a member of a government 
board (and then, of course, a Hanoverian), who was a younger 
brother of Sir Everard Waverley of Waverley Honour, a very 
respectable and long-descended country gentleman, who staunchly 
supported Church and State according to pure Tory and High- 
Church principles. Each of the latter two Waverleys is a repre- 
sentative creation. The ancestral seat, also, is representative of 
" the stately homes of England " of the Olden Time. With the 
Knight lived awhile Edward Waverley, who, imaginative, idly in- 
dustrious, gentlemanly, and handsome, was prospective heir to his 
uncle, — a good-natured and rather elderly bachelor. Edward had 
read voraciously, but desultorily, from general, and especially from 
romantic, literature, and had also been influenced by the story- 
telling proficiency of a maiden aunt resident with this uncle. When, 
at length, a choice of profession became usual, this young gentle- 
man, like one of his social position and period, chose that of arms. 

In due course he thus came to be stationed at Dundee, "a sea- 



''WAVERLEY; OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE." 141 

port on the eastern coast of Angus-s|iire, where his regiment " was 
quartered, commanded by the well-known, excellent Colonel Gardi- 
ner. Obtaining from this officer leave of absence, he, then Captain 
Waverley, resolved to visit an ancient titled friend, and a corre- 
spondent of his uncle, to whom he had an introductory letter. An 
easy, two-days' ride in the saddle brought him toward the High- 
lands of Perthshire. " Near the bottom of this stupendous barrier, 
but still in the Lowland country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwar- 
dine, of Bradwardine, the personage whom he was about visiting." 
The name of this gentleman's residence was Tully-Veolan, — 
described as a castellated structure, " built at a period when castles 
were no longer necessary, and when Scottish architects had not yet 
acquired the art of designing a domestic residence." It was reached 
through a long avenue lined by alternate horse-chestnuts and syca- 
mores, and leading from a mean and dirty village. It was as 
profusely adorned with heraldic bears as that quaint old Swiss city, 
Berne. Even the allied resources of archaeology and antiquarian- 
ism can hardly determine the earthly position of this seat, for it is 
of the representative, or ideal, sort, — apparently designed from 
features of several of its class at which Scott visited. One ingen- 
ious writer states that it " finds a striking counterpart in Traquair 
House [near Innerleithen] in Peebles-shire," where there are, or 
were, a gateway, an avenue, and a house very like Tully-Veolan, 
but almost without the latter's important beauties, — the bears. 
Other persons have found much resemblance of detail between the 
Bradwardine seat and Ravelston and Craigcrook, two residences a 
few miles from Edinburgh towards Corstorphine Hill. Both have, 
or had, gardens in the curious, formal style prevalent a century or 
more ago, and described as pertaining to Tully-Veolan. A more 
complete resemblance is, however, found in Grandtully Castle, three 
miles from Aberfeldy, in Perthshire, situated, indeed, quite as we 
are told Tully-Veolan was, and generally considered its prototype. 
It is a massive, baronial mansion, in good repair, nearly four hun- 
dred years old, surrounded by noble elm-trees, and standing at a 
little distance from the road, yet not prominently. It is, or was, 
approached through an unpretending wooden gate, and through an 
avenue lined by horse-chestnut and other trees. The edifice, for- 
merly reached over a drawbridge crossing a moat, is nearly square, 
and has a square, ivy-draped wing. It has, also, the frequent Scot- 
tish assortment of chimneys, gables, and queer pepper-box turrets 



142 ''WAVERLEr; OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE:' 

on corbels at angles. It is bi\ilt of rather small broken stones, with 
abundance of dingy cement, and thus had, to the writer, a motley 
appearance. It is not large; and, if a comparison be permitted, it 
might, as a representative building, strikingly suggest the compara- 
tive wealth and luxury of Scotland in " '45 " and now, if, as Tully- 
Veolan, it is contrasted with the neighboring lordly seat of the 
Marquis of Breadalbane, — Taymouth Castle. In Scott's time, 
GrandtuUy had been held more than four centuries by the Stewart 
family then owning it, — a fact that might have induced him not to 
transfer it to the Bradwardines. 

A more possible original than even GrandtuUy is said to be 
Craighall, a mile and a half north of Blair Cowrie in Perthshire, 
the seat of the Rattrays, a very old family, related to Mr. Clerk, 
who accompanied Scott during his tour in 1793, when he visited 
this place. It is one of the most picturesquely situated mansions 
in Scotland : " a modernized ancient edifice, on a peninsulated 
rock, rising two hundred and fourteen feet sheer from the Ericht, 
and formerly defended on the land side by two towers " still exist- 
ing. It is accessible only from the front, and commands surpris- 
ingly romantic views. In several features it is not quite like 
Tully-Veolan ; but when " Waverley " appeared, and Scott was the 
" Great Unknown " to nearly every one as he was to Mr. Clerk, 
the latter, according to Lockhart, " at once perceived," " from the 
position of this striking place," " and as the author afterwards con- 
fessed to him, that of the Tiilly- Veolan was very faithfully copied ; 
though in the description of the house itself, and its gardens, many 
features were adopted from Bruntsfield and Ravelstone." Indeed, 
Mr. Clerk read "the first chapters of 'Waverley' without more 
than a vague suspicion of the new novelist ; but when he read the 
arrival at Tully-Veolan his suspicion was at once converted into 
certainty ; " and he said to a friend of Scott and of himself, " This is 
Scott's ! and I'll lay a bet you'll find such and such things in the 
next chapter." There is, near Craighall, adding to its resemblances 
to the seat of the Bradwardines, a glen with a cave, described in a 
later portion of this story, and mentioned on page 145. 

It is evident that although Tully-Veolan is a creation of the author, 
it is an excellent representative of a Scottish manor-house of the 
last century, and also that it is one of the styles of houses at which 
Scott visited while he was " making himself" At it. Captain Wa- 
verley became acquainted with the whimsical, gallant, old Baron, — 



^'IVAV^RLKV; OR, 'TJS SIXTY YIJARS SINCE:' 143 

one of the Great Magician's remarkable and living creations, — anti 
with Miss Rose Bradwardine, the Baron's only daughter. She was 
" but seventeen," and " a very pretty girl of the Scotch cast of 
beauty ; that is, with a profusion of hair of paly gold, and a skin 
like the snow of her own mountains in whiteness." Her features 
had a lively expression ; her " complexion, though not florid, was so 
pure as to seem transparent, and the slightest emotion sent her 
whole blood at once to her face and neck." Captain Waverley also 
formed a variety of acquaintance with other persons there, but, as 
natural with a young gentleman of taste and good heart, his social 
pleasures were chiefly associated with this handsome young lady, — 
one as simple, unaffected, and confiding as an adventurous traveller 
could hope to meet. After he had tarried several days at Tully- 
Veolan, a band of predatory Highlanders stole the Baron's cows 
and carried them into the fastnesses of the neighboring hill-country, 
as cows were then often carried. An attempt to recover these con- 
venient animals, gave the Captain an opportunity — then seldom 
possible — of gratifying a desire to view the mountain scenery of 
Perthshire. He was thus led through interesting portions of that 
county not clearly traceable on modern maps, and in course of his 
wanderings to the house of Glennaquoich, residence of that well- 
known, gallant clan-chief, Fergus Mac Ivor Vich Ian Vohr, and of 
his high-spirited and handsome sister Flora, both enthusiastic Ja- 
cobites. It would be hazardous to assert the actual position of this 
house. Colonel Macdonnel, the last chief of the Clan Macdonnel, 
" who maintained to the last, it is said, the costume and usages of 
the ancient chiefs," and who has been considered the prototype of 
Mac Ivor, lived at Invergarry Castle, now a ruin, situated on Loch 
Oich (Caledonian Canal), at the lower end of Glen Garry, the upper 
portion of which is called Glenquoich. And thereabouts, we may 
suppose, we are again introduced to representative scenes and 
characters, — those of the last period of Highland clan life and 
active Jacobitism, where the old Stuart times were exemplified just 
as they were about becoming micrged into those of United-British 
life now existing. Captain Waverley's adventures thenceforward 
became of a varied, complicated, delicate, or interesting nature, and 
had best be learned from Sir Walter's own representations of them, 
— that will form appropriate and desirable enough reading at some 
Highland house, or hotel, or glen ; if not elsewhere. 

'"■ Entanghng aUiances," indeed, of politics, of war, and of love, 



144 "WAVERLEY: OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCEr 

led the Captain not only through romantic portions of the Highlands, 
but also to picturesque places south of them. A single scene — 
one of the few that can be associated definitely with his adventurer. 
— should be mentioned here, and be visited by the traveller. It is 
a charming little cascade, — Ledeard (about eight miles, by road, 
from the Trosachs Hotel). It is a double fall of twelve and fifty 
feet height, in a small but exquisitely romantic, copse-clad ravine, 
rather deeply cleft into a great hill-side. Sparkling water descends 
between dark rocks nearly covered with deep-green mosses. As 
the text of the novel describes : It is "not so remarkable either for 
great height or quantity of water, as for the beautiful accompani- 
ments which " make " the spot interesting." At this spot, the sus- 
ceptible Captain had a romantic interview with Miss Mac Ivor, — 
one that readers of the story will well remember ; but, as before 
declared, there will not be, just here, any undesirable disclosure of 
the emotions of the heroine or of the hero. No such evidently 
grievous wrong to a coming reader of " Waverley " will be here 
attempted, should such a person happen to see these pages. 

The course of Captain Waverley's adventures can hardly be 
associated with another definable scene, until the fortunes of the 
civil war brought him apparently a prisoner, to Doune, then held 
for " His Royal Highness, Prince Charles Edward." Not very 
much of the story pertains to this Castle, — a huge, quadrangular 
structure, enclosing a court-yard within its venerable and massive 
walls and towers, and situated closely upon the road between Cal- 
lander and Stirling. It was last occupied as a military post during 
this "affair" of " '45." From it Captain Waverley was conducted 
by an insurgent guard to Edinburgh. On the way thither the party 
passed near Stirling Castle, beneath the towering batteries and 
walls of which (held then for the estabhshed government), the com- 
mander of this guard, the Laird of Balmawhapple, displayed his 
rebellious banner and had his trumpet sounded. This insult was 
answered from the castle by a cannon-shot that swept closely over 
the doughty Laird's head and caused his party to flee as expedi- 
tiously as possible, the Laird himself bringing up the rear, however, 
and returning the fire by a discharge of one of his horse-pistols 
directly at the mighty fortress, — a courageous " measure of retal- 
iation " not known to have been " attended with any particular 
effect." The party then passed Bannockburn, Torwood, Falkirk, 
and Linlithgow, a series of great places in Scottisli annals of fame, 



''WAVERLEY; OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE:' 145 

and finally entered Edinburgh. The story gives an interesting 
account of the Old Town as it appeared in those stirring and mem- 
orable times. Persons who know Scott's " romantic town " can feel 
how picturesque it must then have been. The place there chiefly 
illustrated is Holyrood, to some of the more modern portions of 
which the story agreeably introduces us. The most distinguished 
>cene was the " long room " or gallery of the palace, now shown to 
visitors, that we may fancy reanimated by a state ball, described in 
the novel, attended by most of the briUiant ladies and gentlemen 
who had then joined their fortunes with the Stuart cause, and 
memorable to Captain Waverley as the occasion of his quite roman- 
tic presentation to the young and fascinating Prince Charles Ed- 
ward. The apartment is about 150 feet long and 27 feet wide. 
The height is considerable. There is a rather simple wainscoting 
of pine, painted to imitate oak ; and there is also a carved cornice. 
The chimney-pieces, two in number, are edged with marble. Win- 
dows on one side open upon the front court ; and at the end, upon 
the Queen's Park, — a large extent of grassy ground containing 
Arthur's seat, almost mountainous in its elevation. The walls are 
lined with portraits of the Scottish Kings, some of whom lived cen- 
turies before painting was known in the country. Over two thou- 
sand years of royalty are portrayed in this upholsterer's gallery of 
art. Yet the room is noble. 

The story is further connected with the battle of Prestonpans 
(fought Sept. 2 1st, 1745), and with a skirmish at Chfton. The for- 
mer field is about ten miles from Edinburgh on the sea-coast ; con- 
siderable of it may be seen from the railway. The latter field is 
also near the railway, four miles south of Penrith, or twenty-two 
miles south of Carlisle. There are many other places in Scotland 
and England incidentally mentioned in this novel. It would be 
difficult to give a connected description of them without a narration 
of too much of the plot, with which, indeed, they are not intimately 
associated. 

A return of Captain Waverley to the Highlands in altered times, 
leads our attention to a secret cave or hiding-place used by an unfor- 
tunate gentleman, prominent in the story, who had been " out " in 
the "affair." The cave is designed from one in a glen really thus 
occupied near a residence described on page 142, — Craighall, near 
Blairgowrie. This retreat, Hke most of the plices mentioned in 
•'Waverley," is very suggestive of the vicissitudes of the unhappy 

10 



146 ''WAVERLET; OR, 'TIS SIXTY YEARS S/NCE^ 

rebellion. It is in a wild ravine, — one of those peculiarities of 
Scottish scenery, — presenting high cliffs, forests, shrubbery, and 
dashing water picturesquely combined, and forming a pleasant 
place for a visit during a bright summer's day, but not a comfort- 
able refuge during a prolonged period. 

From this hiding-place, the action of the story leads attention 
more closely to Tully-Veolan, and finally to Carlisle, the scene of 
its latter development, in sad and tragic interest, that may be recalled 
with peculiar intensity by those who walk upon the battlemented 
walls of the ancient castle there. 

And thus the closing of " Waverley " brings our thoughts to the 
city from which excursions described in the next three chapters are 
to be made ; in which, also, are some notices of the place itself. 
Carlisle Castle, the scene chiefly associated with this story, though 
much changed, and of small strategic importance as a military post, 
is yet maintained and garrisoned. It is a large, irregular, sombre, 
reddish-brown stone structure, predominating over the city and 
country. It has two court-yards, entered through gloomy arched 
ways in heavy towers. There is a rather wide town and rural view 
from the walls. Nearly all parts of the castle itself show age. 
Founded upon a rock, enduringly, its red stone walls have grown 
dark, almost black, from action of time and storm and smoke, and 
their once smoothly cut surfaces are now worn and scaled. The 
great square Keep, the portculHs, and the long cannon, curiously 
combine the old and the new in war. Red-coated sentries or mus- 
tered companies present or recall mihtary realities, — and of sad 
sort to readers of this story, who remember the end of "the Pre- 
tender's " great attempt, when the Georgean government here partly 
closed it, and, with it, the lives of many brave men engaged in it. 
The scene in " Waverley " that was here was of this sort, and illus- 
trates a passing away of ancient manners and institutions and 
classes in Scotland, as distinct as was the revolution about a gen- 
eration later in the results it effected in France. " There is," 
said Scott in 1814, "no European nation which within the course 
of half a century or little more, has undergone so complete a change 
as this kingdom of Scotland. The effects of the insurrection of 
1745; the destruction of the patriarchal power of the Highland 
chiefs ; the abolition of the heritable jurisdiction of the Lowland 
nobility and barons ; the total eradication of the Jacobite party, 
which, averse to intermingle with the English, or adopt their cus- 



''WAVERLEY; OR, 'TfS SIXTY YEARS SINCE.'' 147 

toms, long continued to pride tliemselves upon maintaining ancient 
Scottish manners and customs, commenced this innovation. The 
gradual influx of wealth and extension of commerce have since 
united to render the present people of Scotland a class of beings 
as different from their grandfathers as the existing English are 
from those of Queen Ehzabeth's time." 

Thus, at Carhsle, among closing scenes of the rebellion of 1745, 
and of this story illustrating it with graphic, with unrivalled, dis- 
tinctness and interest, we may appropriately think of both Scottish 
and EngHsh life before it and during its changes, and lay aside 
"Waverley," while, also from Carlisle, we make an excursion — 
not long — to localities associated with a sort of corresponding 
tale, " Redgauntlet," showing the "Pretender," grown old and far 
less attractive, making, in 1770, his final attempt to gain the throne 
of his ancestors, — indeed a contrast to his great and briUiant 
adventure twenty-five years before. And after notice of this cor- 
responding tale, we may, again from Carlisle, visit the scenery of 
''Guy Mannering," the second of the " Waverley Novels." 



XIX. 

" Redgauntlet." 

Nineteenth Novel of the Series; Time of Action^ '770; Published June , 1824; 
A uthor's Age, 53. 

'T^HIS composition, the pendant to "Waverley," as shown at the 
-■- end of the last chapter, is far less historical, and generally 
less interesting and important, than its companion ; yet, as Mr. 
Lockhart thought, had "Waverley" not been known, this would 
have been deemed a masterpiece. And, he added, "it contains 
perhaps more of the author's personal experiences than any other 
of the series, or even than all the rest put together." It was 
written during about the last year of Scott's unbroken pecuniary 
prosperity; a year that, his biographer states, — '■'■ mirabile dictu ! 

— produced but one novel; " for this was of the period when his 
literary achievements were almost fabulous in exuberance and rich- 
ness. He had then gained the height of his remarkable position 
and success, — a position one of the most brilliant then held by any 
living person. 

"Redgauntlet" is often rather sad in tone ; yet it is by no means 
unattractive. A sketch of its long and rather complicated story 
may be omitted here, and simply mention of its chief localities may 
be given. Redgauntlet Castle, the chiefest, is said to be designed 
from Hoddam Castle, Dumfriesshire, situated in Annandale, a few 
miles south-west of Ecclefechan station on the Caledonian Railway, 

— a station twenty miles from Cariisle. It was built in the fifteenth 
century, by Lord Herries, whose family name is so prominent in 
the novel as to have caused Scott to have used it, at first, for the 
title. The castle, remarkable for strength, and for the fine views 
it commands, is a turreted and pinnacled structure, in Scottish 
baronial style, " maintained in as comely a state as any edifice of 
its class " in the kingdom. Grose gives two views of it. The 
name of the parish in which it stands — Cummertrees — suggests 



''RED GAUNTLET.' 



T49 



the name of a person rendered rather conspicuous by the story, — 
the Laird of Summertrees, a Papist conspirator with Redgauntlet 
in the last Jacobite attempt at insurrection. This worthy's appear- 
ance to readers suggests one of his adventures in '' '45," and an 
excursion from that pretty, quiet httle Scottish watering-place, 
Moffat, to which the traveller should go when exploring scenes 
associated with "Old MortaHty" (chapter xxii). The Laird had 
been "out" rebelliously, had been arrested by the established 
authorities, and was being conducted under guard to Carlisle, and 
to what was disagreeably likely, to his execution. The party was 
traversing a public road, where, about five miles north of Moffat, it 
extends along an elevation that overlooks a curious, deep valley, 
called the Marquis of Annandale's Beefstand. The Laird, who had 
been watching opportunity for escape, ingeniously made available 
the capabihties of this ehgible place. It received its name, said the 
Laird, "because the Annandale loons used to put their stolen cattle 
in there." " It looks (he described) as if four hills were laying their 
heads together, to shut out daylight from the dark, hollow space 
between them. A d — d, deep, black, blackguard-looking abyss of 
a hole it is, and goes straight down from the road-side, as perpen- 
dicular as it can do, to be a heathery brae. At the bottom, there is 
a small bit of a brook, that you would think could hardly find its 
way out from the hills that are so closely jammed around it." The 
Laird, in a manner actually accomplished there by a gentleman in 
his situation, slipped from his guard, rolled to the foot of the pre- 
cipitous slope, " like a barrel down Chalmers's Close in Auld 
Reekie," fled across the moors, and escaped. 

A great deal of the action of this novel — pecuharly Scott's 
West-Border story — occurred on the Scottish and English shores 
of Solway Frith. This wide, shallow, and almost unique estuary 
is well worth a visit for its unusual character, and the land and 
water views it commands. At low water it presents a vast extent 
of sands, fordable in many places, and allows travellers a sort 
of Israelitish passage from one kingdom to the other: but the 
passage, although curious, is not thoroughly safe ; for when the 
rapid tide rises, it may too overwhelmingly show the style of Pha- 
raoh's discomfiture. At high tide it appears a great sea bay. A 
prominent place in the novel is " Fairladies," said to be designed 
from Drumburgh Castle, erected by the Dacres about three hun- 
dred years ago from materials of an older castle, and now, or lately, 



150 " RED GA UN TLE T. ' ' 

a farmhouse. It is about nine miles from Carlisle towards the 
Frith. The most interesting remains in the neighborhood are, 
however, those of the wall of Severus, and of the valhun of Adrian, 
that terminated at Burgh-upon-the-Sands, also a locahty of the 
story. Another is the town of Annan on the opposite (the Scottish) 
side of the Frith. 

The curious plot into which the hero — the lover — of the novel 
is led, not only takes attention to this pecuHar region, but also to 
many locaHties in the Old Town of Edinburgh, such as the 
Parliament House, and the Cowgate, and adjacent Wynds. The 
notice of one of these Wynds, — the College (Scott's birth-place), 
— on page 14, gives sufficient idea of their present condition. They 
are associated with much of the very interesting law plot, life, and 
story of the novel, as also is the Parhament House, a great apart- 
ment of which is yet existing, the Westminster Hall of Scotland 
in its history, although not in its architecture. In the latter char- 
acter it suggests the famous English hall, but is inferior in size and 
style. It is described in chapter xxx. 

" Redgauntlet," if its chief features are expressed in a brief para- 
graph, may be considered an interesting story of personal remi- 
niscences of Scott ; of old Edinburgh law-life and its haunts ; of the 
last Scottish adventures of the last of the Stuarts ; of the Quakers ; 
of smugglers ; and of peculiar West-Border scenery ; but not as 
distinctly and fascinatingly localized a tale, as many others in the 
Waverley series. 



XX. 

"Guy Mannering." 

Second Novel of the Series; Time of Action^ 1760-82; Published Feb. 24, 1815; 
A uthor's Age, 44. 

' I ^HIS admirable and animated story, although represented as 
-^ enacted in not a few places that are imaginary, is yet dis- 
tinctly and chiefly associated with the southern coast of Scotland. 
A pleasant excursion, aside from common routes of tourists, will 
lead, in partly antiquarian, partly fanciful, explorations, to evident 
and interesting originals of localities that it describes and renders 
more attractive. The route of this excursion may be from Carlisle 
to Solway Frith, and thus to scenes of " Redgauntlet," and thence 
to Dnmfries, with its souvenirs of Burns. Seven miles from the 
latter place is Caerlaverock Castle, the original of the Ellangowan 
Old Place of this novel, that should certainly be seen, and before 
the sea-shores hereafter visited, to which it must be supposed 
bodily borne by the power of creative genius. In the churchyard 
of the parish of Caerlaverock (between the castle and Dumfries), 
is the grave of Old Mortality, described on page 189. About thirty 
miles (by rail) beyond Dumfries is Kircudbright, a neat town, with 
an ivy-mantled, ruined castle. Six miles thence, towards the coast, 
is Dundrennan Abbey; and in its vicinity, sagacious investigation 
indicates that the action of " Guy Mannering " began. 

The story opens showing us (about the year 17- ) "a young 
English gentleman, who had just left the University of Oxford," 
traversing the wilds of the coast of Galloway, during a sombre 
evening, after he had spent the day in sketching "some monastic 
ruins in the county of Dumfries." He was diligently inquiring his 
way to " Kippletringan," a town that must be considered mythical. 
The general descriptions in the story give, however, some clew to 
his route (the writer thinks after the research demanded by this 
important subject), and suggest that the ruins that occupied his 
attention were those of Dundrennan Abbey already mentioned. The 
drive from Kircudbright to these ruins is quite worth taking. It is 



152 



''GUY MANNER ING:' 



through a pleasant country, and over a good road, partly well 
shaded, and partly lined by unusually high hedges, regularly or 
wavily trimmed. Some of these hedges, of red-berried hawthorn, 
are from fifteen to eighteen feet high. They are, hke apparently 
every thing else in that region, the property of Lord Selkirk. Near 
the abbey the landscape is rather open. Hills, grassy or wooded, 
surround an agricultural vale, charmingly secluded and peaceful, 
though not so richly cultivated as others in England or in the 
Scottish Lowlands. In the centre of this vale — so much in what 
might be called the monastic style — is the Abbey, standing with 
its eastern end closely upon a pretty stream. This flows on and 
enters the sea, not far distant, at Abbey Burn Foot, — a notorious 
smuggling-place in the days of "fair trade," it is said, of which 
more soon hereafter. 

Dundrennan, now well cared for by public authority, is interest- 
ing intrinsically, and also associatively ; for at it, Mary of Scotland 
spent her last night in her northern kingdom. The monastic estab- 
hshment was large. Its remains are yet rather extensive, and are 
picturesque although fragmentary : they may well have detained 
the Oxonian until darkness came upon him, and may detain brief 
attention here as they did his prolonged there. The writer found 
the ruins in good order and enclosed by a wall. The area within 
the latter was green with soft, smooth turf, intersected by pebbly 
paths, — almost too trim. The materials of the edifice are hard, 
slaty stone, now gray from age, intermixed with considerable red 
sandstone, grown to a reddish or purplish tint of gray. The 
church, cruciform, was about two hundred feet long, and one 
hundred and twenty feet wide at the transepts, and had a central 
tower bearing a spire, said to have been two hundred feet high. 
About twenty feet in height of the plain west front remains, pierced 
by a pointed, well-moulded, central door. The nave was one hun- 
dred and thirty and a half feet long : only the bases of its outer 
walls and of two pillars (the most western) remained at the time 
of the writer's visit. Much of the north transept was then nearly 
entire ; but its three eastward chapels were destroyed. Its gable, 
the only one remaining, was nearly entire. The south transept 
was ruinous, showing the three stages of the east wall, — three 
pillars bearing triforium and clere-story. Both transepts appeared 
to have been of similar design. The choir, measuring twenty-six 
by forty-five feet, had neither side-aisles or chapels, but blank walls 



''GUY MANNERINGr 1 53 

Dearing a clere-story. The east end had disappeared, and also the 
cloisters (once one hundred and four by one hundred and eight 
feet). Of the chapter house (fifty-one and one-half by thirty-five feet 
originally), a portion of the front remained, showing the great door, 
and on each side of it a window, originally with two days. Though 
many of the tall, narrow, external window arches are round-topped, 
most parts of the buildings are good Pointed, but are worn and 
broken : nearly all the muUions and headings are gone ; and the 
south wall, much of the north wall, and part of the east wall ; and 
also the refectory and dormitories, except the basement of the 
latter (a series of six vaults opening towards the cloister area). The 
architectural designs are usually simple, and present little sculp- 
ture. 

This abbey, of Cistercians, foanded in 1142, is another monu- 
ment of mediaeval piety devastated by semi-barbaric fanaticism, in 
a manner disagreeably prevalent in Scotland. Its apartments that 
sheltered the fugitive queen have now disintegrated as did her sad 
fortunes. And yet beneath the shattered, desecrated walls of its 
ancient church we can even now seem to hear the spirit voices of 
the departed monks intoning, through Gregorian chant, a solemn 
De Profujidis J while in dream of fancy we behold, amid the 
gloom of that last eventful night, the beautiful, unhappy Mary 
kneeling, tearful and prayerful, before the consecrated cross that 
once crowned the shrine in the now dishonored chancel. 

She was, it is said, " the last distinguished guest who was shel- 
tered" at Dundrennan. She arrived there, "after a journey of 
sixty miles, in the evening of that fatal day " at Langside, when her 
cause as queen was finally ruined. On the next day, after "a 
solemn consultation," she persevered in her determination to in- 
trust herself to EHzabeth of England, and from the abbey " pro- 
ceeded (says Charles Mackie) through a secluded valley of surpass- 
ing beauty to the sea-shore, a distance of about a mile and a half," 
where her place of embarcation is still shown. Thence " she exer- 
cised the last step of her free agency," — that into a fishing vessel 
that bore her for ever from Scotland, " amidst the tears of those 
who accompanied her, and those whom she left behind." 

From this interesting place the Oxford student may be supposed 
to have been travelling through gathering darkness perhaps to 
Kircudbright, — the possible actuality of Kippletringan. Those 
tvho now explore this region, especially if in the direction of the 



154 ''GUY MANNEEING." 

coast, can easily imagine his perplexity among the rough and intri- 
cate roads that then existed in it, and his consequent wanderings, 
until he came as he is described to have come, to where " the roar 
of the ocean " was " near and full, and the moon, which began to 
make her appearance, gleamed on a turreted, and apparently a 
ruined, mansion, of considerable extent," — " Ellangowan Auld 
Place " or Castle, — and how he thence turned to the " New Place," 
a modern house, near by ; a simple, comfortable residence, where 
he found a hospitable reception. Descriptions and action in the 
novel, and aspects and history of the coast, lead along his probable 
route to a farmhouse about a quarter of a mile inland from Raeberry 
Bay, and thence by a path towards the coast. This bay is small ; 
its shores are rocky, bare, and lonely, yet the scenery is pictur- 
esque. It is naturally very like the wild, secluded, interesting 
Ellangowan ; and naturally only, for neither Old or New Place are 
visible ; but the context of story and of vicinity (so to express it) 
render a reconstruction of both these possible and appropriate. To 
accomplish this, visitors should keep in mind Scott's descriptions 
of the two specimens of domestic architecture just mentioned, and 
also the many incidents connected with gypsies and smugglers in 
the novel, and in the legends of this locality, and then gain the 
view from Raeberry Head, — perhaps the best point for observa- 
tion on this part of the coast. As shown to the writer, the Head is 
a high half-hill, with a worn, bluff end towards the sea. From the 
summit may be gained a wide and noble panoramic prospect. 
Southward, the broad channel sea rolls towards the land, surging 
and foaming about the base of the bluff, upon shelves of broad, 
curious, stratified rocks, — the bent edges of which are set hori- 
zontally to the water. Down to these, steeply slopes the gray, 
slaty front of the Head itself, presenting shattered edges of strata, 
around which are patches of grass or whin. Hares abound in and 
out of the many covers thus formed. Eastward rise the bolder, 
dark, reddish-brown cliffs of Abbey Head, and a long moorland 
height stretching inland from them. South-eastward, across the 
Solway, are the pale blue mountains of Cumberland. Immediately 
westward, upon the grassy hill-slope, Raeberry Castle is said to 
have stood ; but it totally disappeared long ago. Beyond, over a 
lower intervening craggy point, is the broad mouth of the river 
Dee, with the rocky island of Little Ross, surmounted by a light- 
house of the same name. Farther on appear the hills of Wigton 



" G U Y MA NXERlNGy 1 55 

and the long coast •f Galloway stretching into the dim distance. 
Northward, is an extensive, hilly, rural country. Down the slope, 
westward, is to be imagined the " New Place ; " for it is not extant, 
— abandoned probably by the reglorified family of Ellangowan, 
supposed now to inhabit a less retired spot. There is, however, a 
handsome, modern residence, not far away (property of Lord Sel- 
kirk, the writer was told), that may serve for the " New Place." To 
complete the scene of the novel, there must be imagined on the 
site of Raeberry Castle that of Caerlaverock, from which Scott 
seems to have designed, or copied, the "Auld Place." Caerlave- 
rock, as stated on page 151, is accessible from Dumfries. It has 
been considered, by some, as both the scene and the site of Ellan- 
gowan ; but critical erudition will hardly prove this important 
theory. It is not only situated inland, and on low ground, — and 
thus is not hke the castle of the novel, — but it is separated by the 
river Nith, or a long, unlikely way by the treacherous Lochar 
Moss, from about the only monastic ruin an Oxonian could have 
been Hkely to have spent a day in sketching, — Sweetheart Abbey 
(with its story of devoted love) ; and no one acquainted with the 
Moss could fancy a stranger crossing it by night in search of any 
conceivable " Kippletringan." Caerlaverock, evidently thus not the 
site, is, it is almost equally evident, the architectural original of 
the "Auld Place," and is to be supposed, as before expressed, 
transported bodily, by the Great Magician, to the site of Raeberry. 
Caerlaverock is a curious, out-of-the-way, old stronghold, delight- 
ful to an explorer, and very much like the castle of the novel. It 
was important from its foundation indefinite centuries ago. The 
present edifice dates from the year 1420, but portions have, appar- 
ently, been decorated long since then. It was dismantled about the 
year 1640, during those destructive wars that wasted so many of 
the ancient strongholds of Britain. Its ground plan is nearly a 
triangle in shape, with a round tower at two of the corners, and 
a pair, like them, at the third, the inland corner. The entrance is 
beneath a low, dark, massive arch, and under a triple portcullis at 
this third corner, and is flanked by the pair of towers, still nearly 
entire, plain externally to corbel- tables at their tops, and empty 
internally to their vaulted stone roofs. Adjoining them are little 
dungeon-like rooms (resembling the one in which Dirk Hatteraick 
was confined by Glossin). Within the castle is a triangular court- 
yard. On the right are ruinous buildings ; on the left is a three- 



i:;6 ''GUY MANNER IN Gr 

storied wall (one hundred and twenty-three fee^long), in handsomely 
decorated Scottish Baronial style ; and beyond it are ruined stone- 
built apartments and stairs. In front of the entrance to the court 
are the scanty remains of the third side, where there appears to 
have been a large and handsome hall, approached through a round- 
arched door at the centre. The outer walls are yet almost entire, 
and of their original height, except on the site of this hall, and in 
one of the towers. The material — soft, red sandstone — the writer 
found grown reddish-gray, varied by russet-orange lichens or dull 
gray or greenish mould, spread by dampness, exposure, and age. 
Profuse ivy renders the ruins beautifully picturesque. The writer 
also found the castle, surrounded by a moat choked with weeds, 
reeds, coarse grasses, and slime. 

This mazy, old-world structure may be supposed transported to 
Raeberry Head, and there, as the " Auld Place," overlooking the 
wide sea, the lonely country and the " New Place," to render com- 
plete a "reconstructed" Ellangowan, scene of a great deal of the 
action of the story. 

During the night when the Oxonian found comfortable quarters 
at the latter house, — the then occupied seat of the Ellangowan 
family, — its Laird became the father to a son and heir. The 
Oxonian, — Guy Mannering himself, — who was skilled in Astrol- 
ogy, cast the horoscope (and destiny) of the child. It was thus 
shown that important crises in his hfe would occur near his fifth, 
tenth, and twenty-first birth-days. These apparently not very reli- 
able calculations were then treated as efforts at amusement ; but the 
course of events, as shown by the story, demonstrated in a strange 
manner their importance and correctness. 

After a short visit the Oxonian went on his way. The usual life 
at the Place — quiet and even monotonous — continued undisturbed 
during the next five years, except by the petty larcenies and final 
summary ejection of gypsy vagrants who settled themselves with- 
in the Laird's territories, and by some rather sharp work with 
smugglers, who, as has been stated, operated extensively in the 
neighborhood. Respecting one of the latter class, a Dutch skipper 
named Yawkins, — the prototype of Dirk Hatteraick, — Scott in- 
forms us in his notes. This smuggler commanded a, " duc^^ar'^ 
called "The Black Prince," "that used to discharge her cargo at 
Luce, Balcarry, and elsewhere on the coast ; but " whose " owner's 
favorite landing-places were at the entrance of the Dee and the 



''GUr MANN'ERLYOV' 157 

Cree, near the old castle of Rueberry, about six miles below Kir- 
cudbright." 

On the day designated by the astrologer as one of the critical 
periods of the existence of the heir of Ellangowan, the boy was 
walking in company with his tutor, whom the world knows, — good- 
hearted, awkward, eccentric Dominie Sampson. The two were 
overtaken, and the boy was caught up and carried away by an 
acquaintance of the family, Frank Kennedy, — a noted and very 
active excise officer, then mounted and galloping towards the " Point 
of Warrock," to observe the movements of a smuggling vessel and 
its crew just then chased into the bay-Hke mouth of the Dee. 
Neither Kennedy nor the boy returned. Apprehension, and then 
alarm, for their safety, ensued, and active search for them was 
made. At length Kennedy was found, to the horror of all who saw 
him, lying dead at the foot of a cliff near the river mouth, and 
crushed beneath a huge fragment of rock, evidently torn from the 
crags above. No trace of the boy could be found. The vessel of 
the smugglers, burning not far from the shore, and huts that the 
expelled gypsies had left with threats of vengeance, were examined, 
and yet no clew was found to indicate his fate. The Laird's misery 
at loss of his son was soon increased most sadly ; for this distress- 
ing event rendered him a widower while prematurely rendering him 
the father of an only daughter. 

The represented scene of Kennedy's death may quite properly 
be supposed on the eastern shore of the mouth of the Dee, and not 
far from Raeberry. Beneath the crags that border the river there, 
may still be found a huge fallen fragment that could have crushed 
a dozen men. It may mark the very spot alluded to by Scott when 
he informs us that "strangers who visit this place, the scenery of 
which is highly romantic, are also shown [besides the cave next 
described] under the name of the Ganger's Loup, a tremendous 
precipice, being the same, it is asserted, from which Kennedy was 
precipitated." There is also a forest at some distance inland, that 
may answer for the " Warrock Wood " of the novel. 

The Laird's physical and mental health, after these important 
changes in his family, gradually became seriously impaired, until, 
finally, he was paralytic. Meanwhile, the affairs of his estate — 
far too much under management and control of an agent and a 
lawyer, Gilbert Glossin — became also very seriously affected. The 
last crisis in the life and fortunes of the Laird was reached, at last, 



I :^S ''GUY MANNERlNGr 

when, chiefly through devices of this factor, the Ellangowan prop- 
erty was sold at public auction. The painful circumstances of his 
condition could no longer be borne : the Laird, while sitting where 
he could overlook the ancestral home, when, by this sale, it passed 
from possession of his ancient family, died in his chair attended, 
almost alone, by his only daughter, Lucy, who was left thus a destitute 
orphan. Glossin, despised by those who knew him, purchased 
the estate, and gained, if possible, the additional hatred and con- 
tempt of all classes of his neighbors, who well understood enough 
of the means by which he was enabled to obtain possession. The 
extent of his wickedness did not appear, however, until afterwards ; 
but happily, not long afterwards. 

A period of about seventeen years passed between the disappear- 
ance of the heir of Ellangowan and the time when the action of the 
story again became so important at the apparent ruin of the old 
family. We are then introduced to this scene at the sale, and also 
to the "Gordon Arms Inn," at the mythical Kippletringan, and to 
Mrs. Macandhsh, proprietress, and to other persons. Colonel Man- 
nering, Gilbert Glossin, Esq., and a mysterious young man named 
Brown, appeared, also, in performance of distinguished parts in the 
story. We are also rendered more acquainted with several smug- 
glers and with their affairs, and, consequently, are led to the scenery 
at the mouth of Dee, and to the cave already mentioned, called 
Dirk Hatteraick's Cave, from the ruffianly captain, so active and 
important in the novel. This cave can be visited without much 
difficulty, and corresponds remarkably with that described by Scott. 
It is not far from the " Ganger's Loup " just named, and at the inner 
angle of a very small bay that pushes into the craggy shores. At 
this point the explorer leaves a pebbly or stony beach, and ascends 
over outcroppings of eccentric strata, and over debris, to an unex- 
pected httle hole in the earth, — the mouth of the cave, that must 
formerly, before enlargement and wear by visitors, have been very 
secret. At the sides of this entrance rise crags that present curious 
strata of rock, — dark, iron-gray, bent almost like inverted ribs of a 
ship's bilge ; above these is a crest of grass-grown banks of earth. 
The cave can only be approached and entered at its front. Its main 
part, reached by a descent of several feet from its mouth, is perhaps 
sixty to seventy feet long, and from twelve to five feet wide, — per- 
haps seven feet is the average width and height. Towards the 
mner end Iflie floor ascends and the sides converge until the cave 



''GUY mannering:' 159 

tetininates in a low, narrow point. Near this is a little spring, con- 
tinually, during summer and winter, dropping water into a little nat- 
ural cup. From the interior of the cave the surf is easily audible. 
The events associated with this place, and described so vividly in the 
novel, could easily and probably have occurred in this strange den, 
and can readily be imagined in it, — the most definite locality of 
the story, indeed, that the writer knows. Readers of the novel can 
recall how much of the fate of the heir of Ellangowan, at the third 
crisis foretold of his life, was determined in and around it. 

Southward from the cave is a curious, tall rock, named Brandy 
Crag, historically a scene of a great deal of smuggling during the 
vigorously developed " free trade " at Dee mouth. On the way 
back to Kircudbright, — about three miles distant, — travellers 
pass the pleasant estates of Lord Selkirk, and a village or two that 
might represent the " Portanferry " of the novel, where the smug- 
glers and Gilbert Glossin despatched custom-house business in 
such fiery style. A more probable original may be Port Mary, on 
the sea-coast east of Raeberry. Along much of this way back, 
there are fine views westward across the broad waters of the Dee, 
and low mosses, and upon beautifully-forested Saint Mary's Isle, — 
seat of Lord Selkirk, — views that suggest the lines sung by a neat 
Scotch damsel near here, and heard by Bertram of Ellangowan at 
a time of uncertainty in his fortunes : 

" ' Are these the Hnks of Forth,' she said, 
' Or are they the crooks of Dee ; 
Or the bonny woods of Warrock-Head, 
That I so fain would see ? ' " 

These lines, although interesting, are perhaps less so than a nice 
girl represented by a Scotch artist as singing them. It will be re- 
called how they caused Gilbert Glossin to growl anathemas upon 
popular rhymes, on account of thoughts about these fair scenes that 
they forced upon him ; and it will also be recalled how they set to 
thinking Bertram of Ellangowan, — the mysterious Brown, — when 
he came a stranger into this region of his birth and inheritance, 
after Fate, and (what is often practically the same) human agencies 
had driven him over foreign seas and lands. They influenced him 
much as the voices of the London bells are said to have influenced 
tliat fabled young Whittington, whose sole fortune, once, was a cat, 
— and pluck ; for Bertram was, apparently, little richer when he 



1 6o ''GUY MANNERINGr 

heard the song ot the nice Scotch girl, and the novel tells us how 
his enterprise and deserts were rewarded. 

Bertram's travels, immediately before his reappearance at this 
supposable Ellangowan region, may now be imitated pleasantly, and 
lead us, by an excursion not far to the north-eastward of Carhsle, 
as they led him, to Liddesdale, — that district associated with 
Scott's many early raids (page i6), with young Lochinvar'p '^!d 
ride for a bride (page 45), and with the home and life of one i 
Scott's most natural creations, — honest, stout-hearted Dandie Din- 
mont of Charlie's-Hope. Travellers now will make a raid thither 
by rail, instead of by horse, or even by gig, as Scott did in 1798, 
when he introduced one, the first wheeled vehicle that entered the 
dale. This change in locomotion suggests a deal of history. A 
drive over the public road to Langholme should be taken, if possi- 
ble, for the country it traverses is delightful. The excursion may 
be continued to the imposing ruins of Hermitage Castle, and thence 
back, down the dale of Liddel Water. This pleasant dale is agri- 
cultural or pastoral along its middle extent ; along its upper, it is a 
mountain glen ; and, in its lower, it is picturesque with cascades 
and hills. Besides this scenery, and Canobie Lee, where there 
was "racing and chasing" after "the lost bride of Netherby," the 
dale contains several Roman and Caledonian relics. The character 
of its inhabitants has naturally been changed, yet undoubtedly 
worthy successors of the world's acquaintance, Dandie Dinmont, 
yet exist. 

The chief scenes of this novel, so far as they can be identified or 
" reconstructed," have been already sketched ; but no account of 
them, or of the novel, is complete without reference, at least, to one 
who, with affectionate and sympathetic devotion, furnished Scott 
with many anecdotes and much other material of which he made 
important use in this novel and in others of the Waverley series. 
This one was Mr. Joseph Train, " the Antiquary of Galloway," and 
as he might also be entitled, Antiquarian purveyor to Scott. Mr. 
John Patterson wrote a biography of Mr. Train that contains many 
curious explanations respecting the origin of several of Scott's 
plots and characters. Acquaintance and correspondence existed 
eighteen years between the Antiquary and the Novelist, and ended 
only at the death of the latter. Their intercourse formed one of the 
pleasant stories of literary history. Through it all, says Mr. Pat- 
terson, we do not "find that Train was actuated by mercenary 



''GUY mannering:' 161 

motives in affording to Sir Walter that assistance which the nov- 
elist so highly valued." 

The chief plot of " Guy Mannering " was suggested to Scott by 
a tale that he learned from John McKinlay, an old servant to his 
father ; and also from " The Durham Garland," a ballad in sixty 
verses. Another source may be identified in the pubhshed reputed 
"Memoirs of" Mr. James Annesley, "an Unfortunate Young No- 
bleman," nephew of the Earl of Anglesea, who " Returned from A 
Thirteen Years Slavery In America, where he had been sent by the 
wicked Contrivances of his Cruel Uncle. A Story founded on 
Truth, and addressed equally to the Head and Heart." A long 
trial, in Nov. 1743, illustrates this case, and Scott's work. In the 
novel, Gilbert Glossin, as will be well remembered, enacts a part 
similar to that of the " Cruel Uncle " in this " True Story." That 
portion of the plot relating to the arrival of the Astrologer at Ellan- 
gowan, and to his fortune-telling on the night when the heir to the 
house was born, was, however, furnished to Scott by Mr. Train, 
from an old legendary local ballad of Galloway, — related, quite 
probably, to " The Durham Garland." Mr. Train also furnished 
to Scott the original of Wandering Willie in " Redgauntlet ; " of 
Edie Ochiltree in " The Antiquary ; " of Madge Wildfire in " The 
Heart of Mid- Lothian ; " and sketches of Donald-na-Nord, one of 
whose ancestors was a reputed prototype of a prominent person in 
" Waverley ; " the tale on which " The Doom of Devorgoil " was 
founded ; and, not least of all, the story of Old Mortality, and inci- 
dents used in the novel named from him. 

" Guy Mannering," in its stirring and varied action, not only tells 
us about astrology, gypsies, smugglers, country life, and plans for 
stealing a great estate, but also collaterally, and naturally, a deal 
about law and law-people, and in a manner adding very much to 
the interest and life-like character of this action. Contrasted with 
Glossin, the legal " villain " of the story, is Counsellor Pleydell, a 
literary portrait, it is said, of " Mr. Andrew Crosbie, who flourished 
at the head of the Scottish bar, about the period referred to in the 
novel." He, and other persons, direct attention to several of what 
may be called the legal localities of the Old Town of Edinburgh, that 
may tempt the curious to explorations, not only for associations 
they thus have with this novel and with "Redgauntlet," but also 
with Scott himself, whose education, profession, and tastes ren- 
dered him acquainted and pleased with such by-places and theii 



1 6 2 *' G[7Y mannering:' 

stories. Mr. Crosbie's haunts at Edinburgh were those of the 
legal gentlemen of his time, — "those obscure wynds or alleys 
leading down from the High Street, which, since the erection of 
the New Town have been chiefly inhabited by the lower classes of 
society," such as Advocate's Close, Writer's Close, Lady Stair's 
Close, and the West Bow. 

As stated at the close of chapter xii., Scott wrote this wonderful 
novel during about six weeks before and after Christmas, 1814, and 
immediately published it. His rapidity of composition was only 
rivalled by the excellence of the work done. Mr. John Ruskin, in 
analyzing quahties of greatness, says, " Where the ease [of execu- 
tion] is manifest, as in Scott, Turner, and Tintoret ; and the thing 
done is very noble, it is a strong reason for placing the men above 
those who confessedly work with great pains. Scott, writing his 
chapter or two before breakfast — not retouching, — ... [is] in- 
stantly to be set above men who confessedly have spent the day 
over the work, and think the hours well spent if it has been a little 
mended between sunrise and sunset." Again, of the superiority of 
creative to sentimental literature, Mr. Ruskin says, though " it may 
be as long before we have another In Memoriam as another Guy 
Mannering, I unhesitatingly receive as a greater manifestation of 
power the right invention of a few sentences spoken by Pleydell 
and Mannering across their supper-table, than the most tender and 
passionate melodies of the self-examining verse." [Modern Paint- 
ers, iii. xvi.] 

Originals of several characters in this novel, other than those al- 
ready named, can be identified perhaps as readily as originals of their 
haunts. One Jean Gordon has been considered Meg Merrilies, — 
one of the most extensively known and oftenest dramatized of 
Scott's characters. Mr. James Sanson, of Berwickshire, is said to 
have shown a very exact resemblance to Dominie Sampson, who 
strides with such " prodigious " reality along the eventful chapters 
and the weird fields of " Guy Mannering." Two or three persons 
are said to have been the original of Dandie Dinmont. One of 
these was Archibald, brother of Mungo Park, the well-known trav- 
eller in Africa : another was Mr. James Davidson of Hindlee. He 
possessed numerous dogs named Pepper and Mustard, Auld and 
Young, Big and Little, like Dandie's canine darlings. Mr. Dinmont 
is, however, probably a composite character. Mr. Robert Cham- 
bers has happily supplied so full information relating to these 
several originals, that more need not be given here. 



"GUY MA NNER IN Or i6t. 

Tlie temptations to prolong this chapter are manifold ; but the 
amount of sketching to be compressed mto nine and forty others, 
its companions, gives warning of necessary brevity and conclusion. 
And we may turn from a walk on the heights of Raeberry, or near 
the Crooks of Dee, as we may close a reading or thought of " Guy 
Mannering" anyAvhere, with the gypsy's prophetic words, that 
haunt the novel, and both foretell and fulfil its story, that come to 
mind when we read its printed page, or when we breathe the fresh 
sea-air of its Galwegian scenes : — 

" The dark shall be light, 
And the wrong made right, 
When Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
Shall meet on Ellangowan's height ! " 

And the Great Magician happily assures us how light at length 
prevailed over darkness, and right with its might over wrong ; and 
how well, on Ellangowan's height, ended the calculations of The 
Astrologer, and flourished the fortunes of Bertram and of Guj 
Mannering. 



XXL 

"Rob Roy." 
gilsland, scott's glasgow, and the "rob roy country." 

Fourth Novel of the Series, written in 1817; Published Dec. 31, 1817; Author's age, 46, 
Time of A ctiofi, 171 5, — mostly during the Rebellion. 

npHERE is a peculiar fascination investing this story and its char- 
■^ acters, and scenery that can be associated with them. Indeed, 
few of Scott's works have more readers, or so abound in picturesque 
incidents and persons, nearly all represented in romantic places, 
many of which can now be identified, and visited with pleasure ; 
for this is the story of curious, old, half-haunted Osbaldistone Hall ; 
of Glasgow Cathedral, and of the Highlands at Loch Ard ; of the 
Scotch Robin Hood ; of charming, miraculous Die Vernon ; of inim- 
itable Bailie Nichol Jarvie of the Saut Market ; of that natural, cal- 
culating, conceited, semi-rascal, Andrew Fairservice ; and of that 
wliolly villanous Jesuit, Rashleigh. This story is associated with 
the first great armed attempt of the exiled Stuarts, in 171 5, to re- 
cover the throne of Britain. It thus bears relationship to " Waver- 
ley," — the tale of the second attempt in 1745; and if the latter 
tends to render sedition agreeable, this counteracts the influence. 

So many persons have read " Rob Roy " that its incidents may 
be recalled here more in detail than are those of many others of 
the novels, in order to connect it more evidently with delightful 
scenes that, we feel, might or must have witnessed its action, and 
that continue, and happily seem likely to continue, unusually at- 
tractive. And travellers when at, or near, Carlisle, may begin explo- 
rations of its localities, for reasons permitted by the work itself, and 
rendered almost conclusive, at least to the writer, by a romantic 
story of Scott's own life. 

The novel soon introduces us to its " hero," Frank Osbaldistone, 
llie son of a great London merchant, who, on account of steady 



''ROB ROYr 165 

Hanoverian principles, held a government office. This "hero," a 
young man of that disposition sometimes termed poetic, had small 
liking for commercial business, and accordingly, much to the dis- 
gust of his father, declined entering the house of " Osbaldistone 
and Tresham." He was consequently exiled from the metropolis 
to the seat of an uncle, — a Jacobitical, Papistical, fox-hunting, ca- 
rousing, country Baron, — Sir Hildebrand Osbaldistone, who dwelt 
with six sons like their sire, at Osbaldistone Hall, Northumberland. 
During the hero's journey to this place he became acquainted with 
persons who were afterwards influential in his affairs. The chief 
locality noticed along his route is the " Black-Bear Inn " at Darhng- 
ton, to which cabs may not now carry curious travellers. 

The usually reputed original of Osbaldistone Hall has been 
Chillingham Castle, Northumberland, seat of the Earl of Tanker- 
ville, situated • about eight miles from Belford (mentioned on page 
35), and famous for wild cattle in its park. Another reputed original 
is Biddleston, at the southernmost base of the Cheviot Hills, nearly 
twenty miles south-west from Belford. Quaint old " Inglewood 
Place " of the novel, represented near the " Hall," is said to be de- 
signed from Horton Castle, rather small and old, and standing in a 
bleak, open country, a few miles from Chillingham. The " Hall " 
of the novel, evidently rather "gothic," and rather a creation of 
fancy than of men's hands, may properly be considered a represen- 
tative seat of one who, like Sir Hildebrand, was a representative of 
a peculiar class, prominent in his time and earlier, and may also 
properly be imagined elsewhere in the North Country than in 
Northumberland, notwithstanding the exphcit mention of that coun- 
ty by Scott, — a mere disguise, the WTiter ventures to think, by 
reason of sundry facts and of sundry particulars good enough to be 
facts. A proper and probable original of the " Hall " may be found, 
as already intimated, during an excursion from Carlisle, — one of the 
most agreeable that can be made from that city, and one seldom 
made by Americans, — to a picturesque region associated with the 
love-romance of Scott's own life. 

The route of this excursion leads east by rail twenty-one miles 
to Rose-Hill Station, and thence a mile to Gilsland Spa, a quiet 
and uncommonly pretty little watering-place, where Scott, in 1797, 
met, wooed, and won, Margaret Charlotte Carpenter. During 
August in that year, he and his lifelong friend, Adam Fergusson, 
son of Prof. Fergusson, while riding over some of the neiglibor'ng 



1 65 ''ROB EOYr 

hills, encountered a young lady mounted, who so charmed them 
that they followed her and found her resident at the Spa. Scott 
met her, and soon became her favored lover, and, at Christmas 
following, married her. The story of their mutual happiness 
during nearly thirty years, and of the pathos of his grief when her 
life ended, must be told hereafter along these pages. A portion of 
his own hfe, so delightful as that when he was a requited lover, 
would very naturally appear recorded somewhere in his writings ; 
and where is it more graphically than in the delightful surprise of 
Frank Osbaldistone, when, as he approached his uncle's Hall, he 
encountered that hvely, lovely paragon of the virtues and amenities. 
Die Vernon, mounted and riding over the hills, whom he followed 
to a country house where he had opportunity to know her, and to 
become — as any well-disposed man might have become — charmed 
with her. And when we find the vicinity of Gilsland abounding in 
Old- World relics, and find among these a castle that has been, for 
centuries, a grand " romance in stone," we can hardly help feeling 
that we may from it " reconstruct " Osbaldistone Hall. 

This castle is Naworth, about six miles from Gilsland and less 
than a mile from the nearest station. It is one of the chief shrines 
of the olden time in all England, and delightfully illustrative of its 
history and of its statelier hfe during many a past generation ; and 
happily, during that present, and prospectively, many an one to 
come. Without an attempt to deprive Chillingham of any possible 
honors, the suggestion may be made that its style — heavy Ehza- 
bethan — is hardly as near that of the " Hall," as is the picturesque, 
domestic, pointed, or Tudoresque style of Naworth ; and, besides, 
the latter can be invested with associations appropriate, delightful, 
and unique. Naworth Castle has been, during centuries, a seat of 
the Howards, Earls of Carhsle. The daring assumption that it can 
have been, even in imagination, a home of the " Orsons " of Os- 
baldistone, may be pardoned by the consequent assumption that it 
can thus also have been a home of a modern goddess of the chase, 
of the moon-lighted sky and of the pure-aired hills, — the Diana of 
this story ; and that it can be thus also invested with memories 
of those unique associations, expressive of the true-hearted romance 
in the life of Walter Scott. 

The emotional traveller while approaching this noble residence, 
either over the green hilly slopes, or through the magnificent park 
surrounding it, must probably rely upon fancy rather than upon 



''ROB ROY" 167 

eyesight for any suggestion of Die Vernon, but yet may be able to 
enter alone the court of Naworth as Frank Osbaldistone entered 
that of the " Hall." At the former, a great stone-arched driveway, 
flanked by a porter's lodge, and crested by a huge sculpture of her- 
aldic devices, gives entrance to an outer court, on one long side of 
which rises the castle itself (two hundred and eight feet long), and 
on other sides of which are old, moss-grown, embattled stables, 
offices, and walls. The style of the buildings, as already observed, 
is late-pointed, partly domestic, partly castellated, and simple but 
picturesque. Most of the material is dark-red sandstone. Abun- 
dance of that peculiarly English veil of beauty — deep-green, lux- 
uriant ivy — spreads upon the venerable walls. 

An inner court-yard, reached from the outer through another 
stone-built passage, is surrounded by the large and rather compH- 
cated main structures of the castle. The dark-red walls, grown 
mouldy gray or mantled with ivy, are varied on the north side by 
drab sandstones. At tlie right, eastward, are stone steps leading 
to a great door that opens to the Hall, a noble apartment (24 by 
70) of the grand old baronial style, — of course, " gothic." The 
lofty, stone-tinted walls have an oak wainscoting about four feet 
high. There is a raised dais that, like the hall, has a large fire- 
place. The one in the hall is huge, and flanked by great heraldic 
animals, supporters of banners bearing family arms, each brilliantly 
painted. All about are family portraits ; and high up, is a series 
of corbels bearing painted shields charged with family insignia. 
From these corbels spring low-pointed, arched, oak girders, sus- 
taining many oaken rafters, and indeed the whole oaken roof, a sim- 
ple but noble one. Towards the court, open large stone-shafted 
windows, — from the dais, one especially large. The floor is stone. 
The furniture is quite in keeping with the prevailing style, com- 
bining modern comfort with ancient characteristics. The whole 
forms an ancestral Hall of the completest story-book sort. From 
the head of the dais, a door opens to " Lord William Howard's 
Tower," now containing a capital, square-turned stone stair, and 
the apartments occupied by that celebrated guardian of the Border, 
and hero of the Castle, 1624 to 1640. He is mentioned in the " Lay 
of the Last Minstrel." His bedroom, on the second floor, is fin- 
ished with dark oak wainscoting, and has very deeply set windows, 
from which are delightful views. It has also a curious fireplace. 
The door is very heavily made of rudely wrought iron. None o^ 



1 68 ''ROB ROY:' 

the old workmanship, indeed, is nearly as neat and good as the 
new, but it has proved strong and true. On the next floor above 
is the library. Its condition was rather indiflferent when the writer 
saw it. It has a curious, double, low-pitched ceihng, with massive, 
richly carved oak beams. Adjoining it is an oratory, irregularly 
square, and not large, commanding from its window a noble view. 
On one side is a beautiful shrine, opposite to which is a painting 
in ancient style, representing the Crucifixion. The walls are hned 
Ly high panelled wainscoting of oak, bearing, in illuminated gothic 
letters, the common inscription attached to the Mater Dolorosa : 
" O vos omnes qui traditis per viam, attendite et videte si est dolor 
sicut dolor meus." Appropriately, in like manner, appears also an 
English translation of portions of the " Stabat Mater." The great 
chapel was burned in 1844, during a conflagration that destroyed a 
large part of the interior of the castle. Lord William's tower was 
the chief portion spared. The upper story of the main structure, 
towards the outer court, is occupied by the gallery, one hundred 
and sixteen feet long, rather narrow and low and plainly finished. 
Its walls are almost covered with family portraits, old armor, and 
curiously carved cabinets. Its small, square, stone-shafted win- 
dows command views of the outer court and of quaint old gardens. 
The apartment and its outlook distinctly suggest the library at Os- 
baldistone Hall, as described in the novel. Very comfortable 
chambers adjoin the gallery. Beneath it are the modern drawing- 
rooms. The whole castle is really a great historical monument as 
well as a noble seat of a noble family, — of " centuries of Howards." 
Its size and strength and intricacies show impressively the risks 
attending high life during ages on the Borders, and the long, 
stormy story of international feuds. " The whole house," says Pen- 
nant, "is a true specimen of ancient inconvenience, of magnificence 
and littleness ; the rooms numerous, accessible by sixteen stair- 
cases, with most frequent and sudden ascents and descents into 
the bargain." Says a later writer, " the whole internal contrivance " 
seemed " only calculated to keep an enemy out, or elude his vig- 
ilance should he happen to get in ; its hiding-holes are numerous ; 
but it seems probable that many of its close recesses are even now 
unknown." Or as Scott himself says in the " Border Antiquities," 
this is one of those " vast and sohd mansions of . . . ancient nobihty " 
that " were like their characters ; greatness without elegance, 
strength without refinement ; but lofty, firm, and commanding," 



''ROB roy:' i6^ 

and, the writer ventures to add, picturesque as cultured modern life 
cannot be, even as the smooth lawn cannot present the effects that 
we see and feel in the shades of the sturdy old moss and ivy-grown 
oaks of Naworth Park. 

This long and rather desultory, but almost irrepressible, notice 
of this original of the "Hall," can hardly better close — after the 
liberties it has taken with Lord Carlisle's private property — than 
by Scott's tribute to the Earl in 1814, — equally due to his present 
successor. " The noble proprietor " of Naworth " deserves high 
praise for the attention bestowed in maintaining this curious and 
venerable pile in its ancient state," — one of those historical as well 
as romantic monuments loved by very many of the English-speak- 
ing race. And the writer feels, as did Scott, that he cannot better 
conclude a notice of this castle, than with lines written by an Earl 
of Carlisle : 

" O Naworth ! monument of rudest times. 
When Science slept entombed, and o'er the waste, 
The heath-grown crag, and quivering moss, of old 
Stalked unremitted war ! . . . 
Yet all around thee is not changed ; thy towers, 
Unmodernized by tasteless art, remain 
Still unsubdued by time." 

Mr. Frank Osbaldistone found his uncle and his masculine cous- 
ins (with one exception) thorough boors of mediumly high life, 
given to field-sports and carousing ; and all of them living in a 
quaint, intricate old castle, of which Naworth may be considered 
an example, refined and enlarged. He also found Miss Diana Ver- 
non an uncommonly attractive young lady, combining most of the 
virtues possible, and many that may be impossible, in any one girl 
of eighteen ; and, notwithstanding her position, well-bred in feelings 
and in manners. She was under one of those spells formerly (at 
least, according to story-books) contrived for blighting the life of a 
woman, — a family arrangement by which her allowable marriage 
was predetermined. She was doomed to marry one of the sons of 
Sir Hildebrand, — all of whom she cordially and properly detested. 
The one who exceptionally was not dissipated was Rashleigh, the 
"villain " of the story, — a Jesuit of the conventional style. He was 
educated, and aspired to her affections, but in a manner shown to 
our intense indignation by the story. Mr. Frank Osbaldistone soon 
found opportunities to meet the marvellous goddess of the " Hall ' 



lyo ''ROB ROY." 

and to enjoy not infrequent interviews with her, especially in the 
curious, romantic library, a charming apartment, suggested to us 
by more than one supposably like it at Naw^orth. This library, 
with heavy oak carvings and " shelves bent beneath the weight of 
the ponderous folios so dear to the seventeenth century," was the 
scene of readings and talkings that determined the fate of both of 
the then happy pair, and that excited the bitter jealousy and hatred 
of Rashleigh. This man, active, ambitious, designing, and unscru- 
pulous, at length received appointment to the place in the house of 
Osbaldistone and Tresham declined by Mr. Frank. Awhile after 
this, the latter discovered that causes, intimately affecting his own 
fortunes and honor, and those of his father, obliged him to leave 
the Hall and Diana, " perhaps for ever," and to leave both in a rather 
stealthy manner. 

About three o'clock on a certain Monday morning, he departed, 
accompanied only by that mature and sagacious " gardner-lad," 
Andrew Fairservice. Their route lay to Glasgow, where business 
relating to the important affairs mentioned awaited him. Travellers 
now, who of course go to Glasgow by rail, will hardly realize how 
long and how dreary the passage of the Borders then was. As Mr. 
Frank is supposed to describe that country : "One chain of barren 
and uninteresting hills succeeded another, until the more fertile 
vale of Clyde opened." 

The visitor to Naworth may, previously to tracing his adventures, 
explore the several remarkable places near it and at Gilsland, from 
which it is only about six miles distant. The number and interest 
of these places, associated or not with Scott, show, as a tour through 
his lands not infrequently demonstrates, that he leads us not only 
to scenes he himself has charmed, but also to many that suggest 
the stories of wonderful varieties of human life and art. From Na- 
worth, the visitor may stroll through its quiet, noble, old park, down 
the slopes, and under the dense trees and shrubbery, to the open, 
level, pastoral vale of Lannercost. Midway in this, and perhaps a 
mile from the castle, will be found the pleasing and unusually entire 
remains of the Augustine Priory, named from the vale, where many 
a noble Dacre, Lord of Naworth, was buried. From under the 
skeleton arch, yet remaining, of the ancient gateway, is a capital 
view of the west front of the church, still entire, and with portal, 
and lofty, lancet, pillar-cased, Early English windows. The door 
continues to give access to a nave in good repair, now used as a 



^' ROB ROY: 



171 



palish church. It has lost its southern aisle, but retains its north- 
ern, with three heavy pillars. The style is simple Early Pointed. 
The color is, or was, ashy-red. A wall divides this nave from the 
transepts, and presents a feeble imitation of a triple lancet window. 
The transepts are picturesque, varied in design, and, although un- 
roofed, tolerably entire. In six eastward chapels, and near them, 
are several large, well made, and but slightly broken monuments 
to the Dacres. As the writer remembers these monuments, 
he suggests that they might easily be cleaned and restored ; and 
"ndeed, that the portion of the edifice containing them might be 
covered by a proper wooden roof, and with moderate repair be ren- 
dered a noble family mausoleum. The chancel here suggests, on 
a smaller scale, that at Melrose. There is a curious walk around 
the transept clere-story, quite worth exploring by those who enjoy 
Old- World nooks. A great many of the stones used in the walls, 
were, noticeably, taken from the mural fortification built near here 
by the Roman emperor Severus (about a.d. 207). Some of the 
infrequently preserved monastic offices remain at Lannercost, built 
in irregular, picturesque, battlemented, domestic style. An edifice 
of this sort adjoining the west front was, it is said, a portion of the 
residence of Lord Dacre, who held the priory after the dissolution. 
The cloisters, with the fate that has frequently attended them else- 
where, are utterly ruinous. A crypt, gray and damp, exists, how- 
ever, at the south side of their site. The dormitories once above it 
have disappeared, leaving only a grass-grown floor. Altogether 
the ruins are sufficiently erect, intricate, and picturesque, to render 
them quite interesting. 

The way from Lannercost to Gilsland leads near the slight re- 
mains of Triermain Castle (page 88), where Sir Roland de Vaux 
dreamed of his more than mortally perfect bride. Not far beyond 
this ruin, it leads to Burdoswald farm, where may be found some of 
the most perfect existing portions of the great Roman wall of Seve- 
rus, and also the distinctly defined remains of a Roman camp, — Am- 
boglana, the most perfect, attached to that work. The wall stretches 
over high ground. It was built, or faced, with small, square, ashlar 
blocks, resembling some modern pavement stones in size and shape. 
The wall now averages but few feet in height and in width. Time 
has made it venerably gray, or has veiled it with mosses, or gar- 
landed it with abundant wild-flowers, — subjects of two verses of 
Scott's earhest fugitive poetry, presented by him. with some of th-^se 



172 ''ROB ROY:' 

flowers, " to a lady," immediately before he met Miss Carpenter 
They record a slight flutter of emotion in these words : — 

•' Take these flowers which, purple waving, 
On the ruin'd rampart grew, 
Where, the sons of freedom braving, 
Rome's imperial standards flew. 

Warriors from the breach of danger 

Pluck no longer laurels there ; 
But they yield the passing stranger 

Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair.*' 

The camp is commandingly situated upon a high, steep, northern 
bank of the river Irthing, that, closely beneath, bounds it on almost 
three sides. Its rampart, its western and^southern gates, and some 
other portions, are quite entire ; its area is about two acres. Both 
wall and camp are yet imposing monuments of the power of ancient 
Rome, even at these farthest bounds of her vast empire, and also 
the oldest architectural evidence of the dangers and violence of 
Border warfare. Through this region are many wide and noble 
views, extending, sometimes, westward to Criffel in Galloway. 

Gilsland Spa will be found a quiet, romantic, little watering-place. 
There is nothing of the brilliant style of Saratoga or the Rhine-valley 
spa in it, but it is an uncommonly pretty and pleasant spot. Scott 
visited it twice, at least. The house in which he probably lived was 
burned a few years ago, but is replaced by " The Shaws," a large 
brick and stone hotel, commanding extensive views over a hilly, 
grass, or forest-grown country. The spring itself is near by, close 
to the dashing river Irthing, where a precipitous bank of gray, strat- 
ified rock impends above it. The Spa water is bright and clear, 
with a flavor of that sort agreeable to those who like it. Perhaps 
an eighth of a mile distant, along the winding stream (crossed twice 
by stepping-stones), is a secluded spot where may be found the 
most attractive popular antiquity of Gilsland, a true lover's shrine 
accurately identified by tradition, and by that authority named — 
not in sweetest possible words — "The Popping-Stone." It is 
rather a large, flat boulder, shaped so as to give quite an endur- 
able seat to two persons. Around it is charmingly secluded and 
romantic vale-scenery, all so close that admiring fancy and regard 
at once embrace the whole. While we sit upon this stone, as its 
worn top suggests that many others have sat, we may — best if we 
are the right two together — then gaze on the peaceful scene ; and, 
recalling the story of the meeting of Frank Osbaldistone and Die 



^'ROB ROY:' 173 

Vernon, and what that meeting brought ; and thus thinking how. 
near here, Walter Scott met Margaret Charlotte Carpenter, we can 
imagine the story of our seat. 

From up the little valley comes the pure, brown, narrow Irthing, 
sweeping around a headland, and rippling and rustling musically 
over a stony channel shaded by green forests rising high along the 
opposite side ; and confronting these, by lofty, horizontally strat- 
ified gray crags, and brown earth-banks relieving the rock colors, 
and by close growths of trees and shrubs that crest both crags and 
banks. Abreast the seat, the stream, widening to a pool, smooth 
and mirror-like, flows slowly onward, reflecting the larches or firs, 
the oaks or ash trees above it. Below the pool, the stream bends re- 
versely to the direction from which it first comes to sight, and thus 
reverses a similar view, through which, beyond a foreground strewn 
with flat or angular, small and large, gray stones, it disappears. 

And on this seat, in this fair scene, tradition tells us that Walter 
Scott sat beside Margaret Charlotte Carpenter when he asked 
her heart and hand, and when she, in words, joined her love and 
her fortunes with his, and gained both a noble and happy home 
and name and place among the true " Loves of the Poets." 

Indeed, there is power in the simple story of two hearts that love 
makes one, — power in genius, and in the memory of the Great 
Magician ! Here, long time ago (1797) sat a young, not very flour- 
ishing Edinburgh lawyer, beside the daughter of a French refugee 
merchant, and asked her to be his wife. And here also, year after 
year, have many persons, come from many parts of the wide world, 
sat where they sat, attracted by the magic and kindly power devel- 
oped in him, to this charming scene so emblematic and so suggest- 
ive of the beauty of their heart's story. And we can but think, how 
much of his noble success, and of his enjoyment of life (so contrasted 
with what is often felt by authors), was imparted to him by that happy 
home, so much of which was made by her who, here, or near here, 
joined her love with his. There is scarcely another such spot ; it 
is fairer, and, in sequel, far more joyfully suggestive, than that quaint 
fireside seat lately remaining at Sholtery, on which Will Shak- 
speare sat with Anne Hathaway, or that vale of Coilsfield where 
Burns and Highland Mary met — and parted. The man who in this 
romantic region first met and learned to love Charlotte Carpenter, 
and who knew her best, might well have described the meeting and 
the acquaintance of Frank Osbaldistone and Diana Vernon ; and 



174 ''ROB Eorr 

might well have given his hero those last fond words with which 
that hero tells us of her ; and well, also, have written those touch- 
ing and pathetic passages that now record his own strong and 
enduring love for one who, after plighting words here spoken, lived 
many years nearest and dearest to him. 

When we return to CarHsle by rail, we may find near the station 
(Rose Hill) a snug, neat, well-conducted house, pointed out as once 
" Mump's Ha'," where Bertram, in " Guy Mannering," when re- 
turning to Galloway, first met Dandie Dinmont, when the "Ha'" 
was a noted Border inn, with ill-reputed stories of robberies. Near 
it is a portion of the Roman wall. 

At Carlisle travellers should not only examine the County Ho- 
tel, but also the castle celebrated in "Waverley" (page 146), and 
the cathedral, distinguished chiefly for its principal extant part, — 
its noble choir and its great east window, beautiful with flowing 
tracery and colored glass, esteemed, indeed, by some, the most 
beautiful window even in the world. 

From Carlisle travellers may continue the general route of this 
tour by taking the rail for Glasgow. Stop may be made on the 
way there, perhaps at Ecclefechan Station to see the original of 
Redgauntlet Castle (page 148), and certainly, if possible, at Beatock 
to see Moffat and remarkable scenery that can be associated with 
" Old Mortality " and with the trials of the West-country covenant- 
ers during the latter years of Stuart rule (chapter xxii.). Stop is 
also desirable at Lanark for a visit to the Falls of the Clyde, that in 
some features suggest the American Trenton. 

At Glasgow, the story of " Rob Roy " is again recalled, and sev- 
eral places may yet be found associated with it. Frank Osbaldi- 
stone is said to have reached the city on the Saturday evening 
following the Monday on which he left the " Hall," and to have 
established himself at a retired inn, of which the writer has not the 
advertisement. Mr. Osbaldistone, although he found the city far 
less important than it now is, found it giving promise of the wealth 
it has gained. On Sunday morning he early attempted, as a first 
attention to his own and to his father's affairs that had led him 
thither, the discovery of the head clerk of his father's house, who 
was then in town. This person, an excellent bachelor, was then 
somewhere in Glasgow for attention to business that intimately 
affected the solvency, or even the very existence, of that heavy con- 
cern, Osbaldistone and Tresham, of which he was representative. 



''ROB ROY: 



'75 



Thus endeavoring, Mr. Frank Osbaldistone was led by his guide, 
Andrew Fairservice, to a place where he would be, on that day^ 
most likely to see the object of his search, — going to worship as 
he ought, in Scotch fashion, — the "Barony Kirk." The service 
that they attended was, however, in the Cathedral. 

Some of the truest words ever attributed to Andrew Fairservice 
are those in which he describes this noble edifice. " Ah ! it's a 
brave kirk," said he to his employer, " nane o' yere whigmaleeries 
and curhewurlies and opensteek hems about it — a' solid, weel-jointed 
mason-wark, that will stand as lang as the warld, keep hands and 
gunpowther aff it. It had amaist a downcome lang syne at the 
Reformation, when they pu'd doun the kirks of St. Andrews and 
Perth, and thereawa'." But, as he explained, it was saved by the 
'' trades " of Glasgow, who took righteous pride in it. " And," he 
added, with more wisdom than some of his countrymen have had 
the head or heart to exemphfy, " I hae heard wise folk say, that if 
the same had been done in ilka kirk in Scotland, the Reform wad 
just hae been as pure as it is e'en now, and we wad hae mair Chris- 
tian-like kirks ; for I hae been sae lang in England, that naething 
will drived out o' my head that the dog-kennel at Osbaldistone Hall 
is better than mony a house o' God in Scotland." 

The grand " auld kirk" — abundant thanks to its many protec- 
tors — stands scathless ; and indeed, renewed in comeliness and 
strength and majesty. Its position, upon a hill on the outskirts 
of the town, and directly over the deep, narrow ravine of the Molin- 
diuar Burn, is quite commanding, though inferior to many English 
Cathedral sites. It is reached through disagreeable streets, and is 
surrounded by rather wide, open, gravelled, or paved spaces ; the 
churchyard itself being almost covered with an incrustation of me- 
morial slabs. The edifice, of course cruciform, has a central tower 
and spire, and a simple west front. It was built mostly during 
seventy-four years of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, in early 
pointed, and presents the pecuharities of the Scotch treatment, — 
massiveness, simplicity, and boldness, rather than external sculp- 
tured richness. It is 319 feet long, 63 feet broad, and 90 feet high. 
The spire is 225 feet high. The exterior is gray and venerable, 
blackened, even, in some parts. The cathedral in its present con- 
dition is an honor to Glasgow, — a monument of its Christian civili- 
zation. Few similar structures in Britain are in such complete 
repair and are so neatly kept. ' The entrance is usually by a south 



1^6 ''ROB ROYy 

door. The great interior presents features of almost stern simplic- 
ity, relieved, and rendered very eifective, by elaborate foliation of 
capitals and rich moulding of the aisle arches. The color is a light 
ash or drabish-gray, — mostly that of fresh, clean stone-surface. 
The windows of the edifice, from crypt to gable, nearly a hundred, 
are filled with painted glass, forming not only one of its chief glo- 
ries, but one of the most extensive and splendid collections of the 
sort. The glass is quite modern, and nearly all produced by the 
Munich school. It presents a long series of Scripture illustrations, 
and many "memorials," — hke the great and brilliant west window 
(about the first filled), commemorative of several members of the 
family Baird. Criticism of work and of design is possible ; but praise 
of the munificence and devotion demonstrated is more possible, 
and more grateful. 

The triforium and clere-story of the church are rather curiously 
combined. The vaulting of the aisles is very good, though in 
simple groins. The great nave arch is siniple, not groined, and is 
slenderly and rather poorly ribbed. The transepts are only as 
wide as the central tower arch, and one bay deep. There is a good, 
and strong stone choir-screen, with a massive, well-carved, oak facing 
towards the choir. There is no organ (that the writer remembers). 
The pews and other appliances of worship are simple. The Lady 
Chapel, formed by two aisles like the nave-aisles, is pecuhar ; so 
also is the square Chapter House opening from it. The most no- 
ticeable feature is, however, the Crypt, one of the noblest in exist- 
ence, and indeed, the unique curiosity of this cathedral. It is 
beneath the Choir and Chapter House. The ground on which it 
stands slopes steeply towards the Burn, and leaves it mostly, or 
quite, above ground, — an unusual situation. It is uncommonly well 
lighted, and one can with ease imagine it used as a parish church, 
as Frank Osbaldistone found it on the Sunday morning when he 
visited it. There are two rows of pillars of unequal size ; and be- 
tween these, along the centre, several others quite eccentrically 
placed. Above all, is much curious and intricate massive vaulting. 
The ribs are boldly defined, and the large bosses, like the capitals of 
the pillars, are richly sculptured. There are small but very fine lancet 
windows of colored glass, most of them memorial. The stone color 
is generally a venerable, dark, or ashy, gray, except as the groin 
fronts are lighter and brownish where recently scraped or recut. 
This whole place is wonderfully picturesque, and its mazes see.n 



ROB ROY: 



'77 



made for such a scene as Sir Walter has created in it. During 
this scene, Frank Osbaldistone looked with care over a strangely 
assorted audience there assembled for rehgious service, and was 
endeavoring to discover Mr. Owen, when, it will be remembered, 
some one, from behind a pillar close by, whispered distinctly in his 
ear, " You are in danger in this city." Quite unable to ascertain 
whence this mysterious and portentous announcement came, he 
waited to hear the voice again. 

After a while he once more heard the unknown whisper : " Listen, 
but do not look back. You are in danger in this place, so am I, 
-—meet me to-night on the Brigg at twelve preceesely. Keep at 
home till the gloaming, and avoid observation." 

When the voice ceased, Frank Osbaldistone instantly turned, 
but was unable to discover trom whom it proceeded. The speaker 
had evidently hurried away among the mazes of the crypt, and 
thus escaped the pursuit at once attempted by his startled auditor, 
who only succeeded in drawing upon himself unpleasant notice 
from the officiating minister caused by a disturbance that he inad- 
vertently occasioned. After the service, while the audience was 
dispersing, Andrew Fairservice pointed out to his employer Mr. 
MacVittie, an obdurate Scotch money-getter of the externally 
saintly species, whose clutches Mr. Osbaldistone then and there- 
after fortunately escaped. 

A combination of reasons induced Mr. Frank to act according 
to the advice of the mysterious whisperer ; and thus, at midnight, 
he met that person on the old bridge that then crossed the Clyde. 

This ancient and important structure, formerly the chief " com- 
munication between the city and the south-west parts of Scotland," 
was built by Bishop Rae in 1345. It was too small for the modern 
traffic, however, and since 1850 it has been replaced by the present 
noble " Victoria Bridge." From this latter is an imposing view of 
the Broomielaw, the harbor or great dock of Glasgow, of which the 
citizens may be justly proud, since they themselves have formed 
it, deep and broad, from a narrow and shallow river ; and have 
covered it with the best of shipping. The old bridge was eight 
arched, and closed by a gate at the southern end. In the time of 
the story it was far more an unfrequented place at night than is its 
successor. From it the stranger, after another mysterious sort of 
mterview, conducted Frank Osbaldistone to a more remarkable 
place, — the city prison, or Tolbooth, then situated at the cornei 

12 



175 



''EOB roy: 



of the High Street and the Trongate, in the centre of the old 
town, but no longer existing. Its site, adjoining the crowned 
tower, now or lately, standing there, is occupied by heavy, turreted 
warehouses. At this prison Mr. Frank gained insight into myste- 
ries that had surrounded and perplexed him. The stranger who 
had whispered at the kirk, and who had conducted him thither, 
proved to be Rob Roy, — outlawed and hunted, — who, for 
reasons then inexplicable to Mr. Frank, was apparently acting 
for some friendly being, — even for the adorable Diana (who con- 
tinually was doing him precious service while she happily helped 
develop evidence of much villany that Rashleigh was perpetrating). 
Thus it occurred that Mr. Frank was, at the Tolbooth, enabled to 
meet his father's head clerk, Mr. Owen, confined by the obdurate 
MacVittie because the reported insolvent house of Osbaldistone 
and Tresham owed MacVittie and MacFin certain unsecured 
debts. It will be remembered that the London firm had admitted 
Rashleigh to partnership, to the place declined by Mr. Frank ; and 
it will also be remembered that Diana Vernon had most just 
and sufficient reason to know and to fully comprehend the ingenu- 
ity and baseness of which the accomplished, but thoroughly mean 
and wicked, Jesuit was capable, and that he was actually exercising, 
— against her, against Mr. Frank, against the London house, and 
even against the estabhshed government. 

Thus, in this seemingly ill-omened prison, the hero of the story 
was started on the right course for circumventing ruinous plots 
against an admirable young lady's peace and honor ; against his 
father's commercial credit and fortune ; and even against his country 
itself. He had not gained this very valuable knowledge, before the 
unexpected entrance of a civil magistrate seemed, at first, to threaten 
confusion to its apphcation ; but the incident and the officer eventu- 
ally proved very beneficial to the whole business, and to the honest 
persons involved in it ; for the magistrate was that good, entertaining 
character, BaiHe Nichol Jarvie, — the very reverse of the captivating 
MacVittie, — come, even on a Sunday night, to ascertain how he 
might ameliorate the temporal condition of Mr. Owen, though the 
latter's principals were indebted to him. Rob Roy was evidently 
at serious disadvantage, confronted as he was within the very town 
prison by a town Bailie. But the story, besides showing a Scotch 
relationship between the two, extricated the Highlander completely, 
properly, and divertingly, to do much good service in the future. 



''ROB roy:' 179 

Hence, the action of the story leads us to the house of worthy 
Mr. Jarvie in the " Saut Market " near by, where the Enghsh gen- 
tlemen breakfasted with him next day. 

The respectably inhabited portions of cities have always been 
subject to vicissitudes, and this Salt Market Street shows thii 
fact In the times of the Bailie, and of his father, the deacon, 
before him, it was a reputable, quiet street enough ; but now, cer- 
tainly to outward view, it is far from being a desirable place of 
residence. Sights, sounds, and smells, secular, and even profane, 
abound. The rather large and old houses do not beguile us into 
explorations, or to conceptive picturing of snug breakfast parties 
in them. Still, while noticing this evidence of the mutabihty of hu- 
man things, we cannot but always pleasantly associate the " Saut 
Market " with the entertaining and commendable Bailie Nichol Jarvie. 

The next scene to which the action of the story leads is farther 
up town, — the University on the High Street, — a continuation of 
Salt Market Street. The reader of these pages will hardly be able, 
probably, to find this old "landmark" of Glasgow entire, for it has 
recently been occupied or partly displaced by Railway Companies. 
It is rising in far greater splendor two miles away. The writer, 
however, sketches it as he found it, and as it probably was in 
the times of " Rob Roy." The chief buildings, completed about 
the year 1662, had not a little of the usual Scotch heaviness, 
and also picturesqueness. They abutted directly upon the street, 
and were entered by a low and rather wide archway, within which 
was a large, quaint court-yard, solemn and quiet as a monastery ; 
and, indeed, on one or two sides cloistered, though in a sort of 
Doric style. The architecture, partially Jacobean, presented many 
scroll-crowned window-caps, stacks of clustered chimneys, and 
ponderous balconies and staircases. Partially, also, in the imported 
French style of the seventeenth century, it thus presented those 
turrets with sharp cone or rocket tops, and that tendency to tall 
roofs and gables distinguishing what may be termed the French 
Chateau style. Every thing was dingy, yet well kept. Beyond this, 
and another court, was an open area, on the farther side of which 
was the " classic " Hunterian Museum, containing a large and di- 
versified collection, — books, pictures, " antiques," natural-historical 
matters, and anatomical models. " Descending from these build- 
ings towards the inky waters of the Molindinar Burn " was " a piece 
of pleasure-ground (says Billings) with a few scattered trees, wofully 



iSo ''ROB Eorr 

blackened and blighted by the smoke of surrounding manufactories. 
This " was " the old College Garden, known to novel-readers as the 
scene of the picturesque conflict between the Osbaldistones, de- 
scribed in ' Rob Roy.' " Here, as the story in detail shows, Frank 
Osbaldistone came upon Rashleigh, and naturally upbraided him 
for much that he had done towards ruining the London house. 
The Jesuit resented his cousin's charges, and a quarrel ensued 
that developed into a sword-fight between the two. At this crisis 
Rob Roy appeared, opportunely, as he usually did, and averted 
tragic results by parting the combatants. 

Soon after this duel evidence was elicited of more and continued 
mischief that Rashleigh was plotting against his cousin, — and, in- 
deed, almost every one he could affect. From this mischief Mr. 
Frank's mysteriously inspired but steadfast friend, Rob Roy, ad- 
vised timely escape ; while Rashleigh continued to devote himself 
to various deadly purposes, and to desperate and extensive schemes 
of financial and political villany, — purposes and schemes that had 
brought him, in a manner seeming strange, to Glasgow, and that 
ultimately became exposed. 

Again Mr. Frank's affairs, with those of his father, led him north- 
ward, and this time, in connection with private business of Mr. 
Jarvie, and an appointment to meet Rob Roy at the Clachan of 
Aberfoyle. Thither he, with the Baihe and Andrew Fairservice, 
journeyed, and there found a dismal public-house at the base of the 
Highlands, situated over twenty miles north of Glasgow. It is now 
represented, rather monumentally, by the " Bailie Nichol Jarvie " 
Inn, about seven miles from Bucklyvie Station on the Forth and 
Clyde railway, and by that line easily reached from Glasgow. This 
Inn is a pleasant resting-place, from which many delightful spots 
can be visited, either connected or not, with "Rob Roy." It is 
only half a dozen miles from the Trosachs Hotel, noticed in the 
sketch of " The Lady of the Lake " (page 54), and easily reached 
from Aberfoyle by a walk across hills and moorlands (mentioned 
on page 68). The " Baihe Nichol Jarvie " Inn is, or was, a de- 
cided contrast to that at the Clachan found by travellers a 
century and a half ago, especially as illustrated in this story, the 
trio of which from Glasgow found the public-house then a rude 
building, probably like those low, thatched, stone-walled houses 
that yet exist near by. They found it, moreover, occupied by three 
carousing Highlandmen, of the military or fighting sort, who took 



''ROB ROY:' iSl 

decided offence at what they chose to consider the intrusion of the 
trio. A letter from Rob Roy, dehvered by the landlady, informed 
the latter that " night-hawks abroad " would prevent him from keep- 
ing his appointment at Aberfoyle, and that a certain trusty person 
designated would guide them to a secure place where he could meet 
them. They were, however, obliged to spend the night at the inn, 
where, owing to the suspecting unfriendliness of the fighting men, 
a celebrated conflict was provoked, as every one is supposed to 
know from youth upward. Indeed, few have not heard how, after 
one of the warriors drew aside to equalize numbers, and Andrew 
had hypocritically fled to the stable, the spirit of war became ram- 
pant, and each Highlandman, with irrepressible longings for fight, 
chose his man ; how then, Osbaldistone held his ground in usual 
defensive style ; and how the Baihe valorously charged upon his 
opponent with a red-hot plough-coulter that he seized from the fire ; 
and finally, how the "affair" was soon amicably settled after his 
tremendous demonstration. Happily the fight hurt only the kilt of 
the Bailie's opponent. During most of the remainder of the even- 
ing the two parties got on quite entertainingly together, until inter- 
rupted by the advent of a Captain Thornton with a file of soldiers 
in the regular service, sent after Rob Roy, and, to the surprise of 
all, ordered to arrest an old and a young man, — the Baihe and 
Frank Osbaldistone. We can imagine through whose devices this 
latter commission was directed. As appeared in results, the arrest, 
that then ensued from it, was not thoroughly sad. 

Notwithstanding this arrest, the next morning opened invigorat- 
ingly, as Highland mornings can, and brought in a day that intro- 
duced the ^Glasgow trio to Highland scenes that may be probably 
more charming to us now than they were to them, — although Mr. 
Frank Osbaldistone has recorded, by proxy, his appreciation. Fol- 
lowing a route that they took, we can now find abundant picturesque 
beauty, and be thankful for romance that their names yet associate 
with it — without the discomfort to us that seems necessary to cre- 
ate that style of interest. 

The soldiers in the morning continued on their special service, 
taking their prisoners with them as they went, along the northern 
shore of Loch Ard, a beautiful and romantic lake near Aberfoyle. 
The party was guided by one of Rob Roy's people., and into an 
effective trap, the regulars found. 

Sir Walter's description of the opening scene of this march is 



1 82 ''ROB ROYV 

truly delightful. " I shall never forget " (he makes Mr. Frank 
write) " the delightful sensation with which I exchanged the dark, 
smoky, smothering atmosphere of the Highland hut, in which we 
had passed the night so uncomfortably, for the refreshing fragrance 
of the morning air, and the glorious beams of the rising sun, which, 
from a tabernacle of purple and golden clouds, were darted full on 
such a scene of natural romance and beauty as had never before 
greeted my eyes. To the left lay the valley, down which the Forth 
wandered on its easterly course, surrounding the beautiful detached 
hill, with all its garland of woods. On the right, amid a profusion 
of thickets, knolls, and crags, lay the bed of a broad mountain lake, 
lightly curled into tiny waves by the breath of the morning breeze, 
each gllKering in its course under the influence of the sunbeams. 
High hills, rocks, and banks, waving with natural forests of birch 
and oak, formed the borders of this enchanting sheet of water ; and 
as their leaves rustled in the wind and twinkled in the sun, gave to 
the depth of sohtude a sort of life and vivacity." 

Other descriptive allusion to this scenery after that of Scott is 
superfluous. Yet it may be noted that these shores of Loch Ard, 
thus pictured by him, — intricate, wooded, crag-bounded, — present 
a charming variety of views that continually attract the traveller 
onward. The road usually followed, that of the story, is along the 
northern side ; at first, through a tolerably open space, bordered 
by steep, rocky, lofty heights, and then, directly above the lake, by 
a narrow pass. From several points are picturesque views of Ben 
Lomond, a grand mountain, having one of the noblest hill-forms in 
Scotland, rising each side with bold, gracefully curving, sweeping 
slopes to a sharp, double cone. The atmospheric perspective at a 
moderate distance often tints it exquisitely. 

At the pass mentioned occurred a skinnish, described with spirit 
in the novel, when the captain of the regulars found his progress 
arrested by a very irregular force of Macgregors posted at the 
crest of the pass, and headed by Helen, the Amazonian wife of 
Rob Roy. The natural scene is very interestingly suggestive of the 
action represented in it. One now may see the old way up which 
the courageous troops advanced ; the thickets whence the High- 
landers fired upon them ; the height on which Helen Macgregor 
stood, demanding why the country of her clan was invaded ; the 
rocks up which the recently made prisoners fled ; and the identi- 
cal gnarled oak stump overhanging a lofty rock, whereon the 



''ROB ROYr 183 

Bailie, through an accident of judicious flight, became suspended 
by his coat, and also the exposed pinnacle on which Andrew ele- 
vated himself witlessly, a mark for the combatants, and from which, 
in trembling haste, he was obliged to scramble. And then, from a 
" mural rock " over the lake waters, we may look down, perhaps 
fifty feet, to their fresh expanse, beneath which was plunged Morris. 
That luckless agent of shrewder men, used so inconveniently to 
Mr. Frank, had been here detained as a hostage for Rob Roy's 
safety, and was sacrificed by his incensed wife, when she learned 
that her husband had been seized not far off by some EngHsh, their 
deadly enemies. The site of the fight is perhaps half-way along the 
lake. The natural objects all around it are now delightful and ro- 
mantic. The "mural rock," partly smooth, partly seamed, and 
fringed by grass or foxglove in its crevices, and commanding these 
views of hill, mountain, lake, and forest, is an unusually effective 
natural position for the human forms of the story we are to im- 
agine animating it. 

Not far beyond is the cascade at Ledeard, described in " Waver- 
ley " (page 144), and also in " Rob Roy," sonie time subsequent to 
the skirmish. Immediately after that, Frank Osbaldistone was de- 
spatched to Rob's captors, and with a rather defiant message to 
them. The Duke [of Montrose], their commander, however, not 
only refused to Hberate Rob, but also detained the messenger com- 
ing on his account, and then led the two with his troops from the 
neighborhood, crossing the Forth, it has been supposed, at the 
Ford of Alianan. At this place, Rob, by ingenious arguments and 
appeals to a trooper behind whom he was strapped, was permitted 
to slip from the horse carrying them both, and thus was enabled to 
make good his escape. During the confused search for him, Frank 
Osbaldistone also escaped. Retiring from the vicinity, he crossed 
a moor by moonlight, while endeavoring to reach the inn at Aber- 
foyle. On this lonely tract, he, unexpectedly enough, met two 
mounted travellers, the taller of whom, a man, addressed him with 
inquiries about the condition of the vicinity. Soon, the other, a 
lady, addressed him, — as he narrates in his supposed journal, — 
and the tones of her voice "thrilled through every nerve of my 
body," he recorded, for the lady was Diana Vernon herself! But 
with what man, he felt, could she be then in that strange spot ? 
Their interview was brief in time, but yet long enough for expres- 
sion of the intensest feehng of a life. She bade him izxQwtW, forever; 



1S4 ''ROB ROY.-' 

and while she stooped to speak her last words to him, " a tear that 
trembled in her eye found its way to my cheek instead of her own," 
his journal again tells us. During this short interview there was 
another incident, less romantic, yet very important, and demonstra- 
tive of her regard for him, she gave him a small and very valuable 
parcel of papers relative to his father's affairs. But valuable as he 
knew these to be, his chief thought was of her, — why she was in 
that lonely spot ; why accompanied as he found her ; whither she 
had gone. And long his chief thought continued to be of her, 
v/hile "sitting down by the wayside," he, as he tells us, "shed a 
flood of the first and most bitter tears which had flowed from " 
his " eyes since childhood." 

Again he met Rob Roy, and with him again spent an evening at 
the Clachan, where also he rejoined the Bailie. Great was the re- 
joicing among the many Highlanders gathered there, at the escape 
of the chieftain, and cheerful was the supper that night at the rude 
inn, and good-hearted also appeared the worthy Mr. Jarvie and his 
wild, bold relation and host, the Macgregor. 

Next day, by invitation of the latter, there was a visit to his 
home, in peaceful contrast to the mihtary advance on it during the 
preceding day. " We pursued the margin of the lake for about six 
English miles " (wrote Frank Osbaldistone), " through a devious 
and beautifully variegated path, until we attained a sort of High- 
land farm, or assembly of hamlets, near the head of that fine sheet 
of water, called, if I mistake not, Lediart, or some such name." 
Here the party was received with Highland hospitality, and in a 
dramatically effective style that gave not slightly imposing evi- 
dence of the strength and resources of the Macgregors, proscribed 
and hunted though they were. After quite as agreeable an inter- 
view with Rob and his wife and people as could have been reason- 
ably desired, the Baihe and Mr. Frank were escorted past the east- 
ern and southern sides of Ben Lomond, to the shore of Loch 
Lomond, avoiding thus the route usually taken by travellers now 
from Loch Ard towards Stronaclachan, and thence by Inversnaid 
Fort to Loch Lomond. Indeed, this fort, erected in the wild coun- 
try between Katrine and Lomond, was not a spot to be haunted by 
any of Rob's clan, built as it was in 17 13, and maintained at the 
time of the story to overawe them, and others like them. Amer- 
icans will particularly remember it as the post where General Wolfe, 
the hero of Quebec, was stationed when an officer in the " Buffs ; " 



''ROB ROYy 185 

and also the general reader may think of "the sweet Highland 
girl " associated with it, and celebrated by Wordsworth. 

The two travellers took leave of Rob Roy, — always faithfully 
their friend, — and embarked in a boat (rowed by his people), prob- 
ably at Rowardennan, the usual starting-point for the ascent of Ben 
Lomond, that rises magnificently above that place. Thence they 
enjoyed a pleasant passage across Loch Lomond to the mouth of 
Leven Water, its outlet, at the south-west. This largest of Scottish 
lakes deserves long attention, although it is almost too well known 
to be here described. Its upper or northern end is comparatively 
narrow, and bordered by lofty and very picturesque mountains. 
Towards the south, it by degrees expands, and the nei^l^vs along 
its sides become less, especially westward, after at ' .alf its length, 
Ben Lomond, the highest of all, is passed. The iouth part is quite 
broad, and presents expanses of water, romantic islands, and pleas- 
ant shores of diversified fields and park-like lands. At the mouth 
of Leven Water the travellers of the story found horses awaiting 
them. Thence, by what was then a long ride, they reached Glas- 
gow on that same night, greatly to the joy of the Bailie, who had 
small wish ever again to explore the beauties of the " land of the 
mountain and the flood." At Glasgow Mr. Frank met his father. 
Certain differences that had originated from his declination of a 
business life were happily settled, and the two were reconciled. 
There, also, he learned of the outbreak of the Rebellion of 171 5, — 
a great political and military movement that explained many intri- 
cacies of the Osbaldistone affairs, hitherto inexplicable, to him at 
least. Thence he and his father immediately went to London, — 
Mr. Frank to take a commission under the established government. 

The entire Highland scenery of this novel (already sketched) can 
be seen during a single day's excursion from Glasgow, by the Forth 
and Clyde railway, carriage or foot from Bucklyvie, and the Loch 
Lomond steamer ; or in two days, if the ascent of Ben Lomond is 
made. 

The further action of the story introduces no new scenes of im^ 
portance. At London, Frank Osbaldistone learned of the death of 
Sir Hildebrand, and of all his sons except Rashleigh. He also 
learned that his uncle had left him heir to the North-country estates. 
In due time, he consequently went to the old Hall to examine It, as 
will be remembered ; and, in its venerable library, he again roman- 
tically met the charming Diana, — a fugitive with the stranger whom 



lS6 "RUB ROTS COUNTRY.'' 

he had seen with her in the Highlands, her father. The decisive 
and exciting scenes that occurred immediately after this meeting 
need only to be suggested to the visitor to the supposed Hall, and 
so, also, the future career of the heir, of the beautiful Die, and, 
finally, of their bold and faithful and most useful friend, Rob Roy. 

'TPHE name of Rob Roy, and the romantic country that once was 
-*- his, also suggest those spirited, poetic, and characteristic 
verses in which the Great Magician has, with such picturesque 
power, perpetuated the memory of vicissitudes of that doomed 
people, — the Macgregors. A portion of these verses, called " Mac- 
gregor's Gathering," were written for Albyn's Anthology in 1816, 
and begin : — 

" The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, 
And the clan has a name that is nameless by day ; 
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach ! 
Gather, gather, gather," &c. 

We can hardly, with more pleasure, turn final attention from the 
" affairs " of " '15 " and " '45 " than by (now pardonably with no little 
admiration) recalHng a part, at least, of Flora Mac Ivor's song in 
" Waverley," with its intense, its romantic, though misguided, Ja- 
cobitical patriotism, and its associations with Highland scenery like 
that celebrated in " Rob Roy," and with clan life and warfare, 
passed away for ever. 

" There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale. 
But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael. 
A stranger commanded — it sunk on the land, 
It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand ' 

" Awake on your hills, on your islands awake, 
Brave sons of the mountain, the frith, and the lake ! 
'Tis the bugle — but not for the chase is the call ; 
'Tis the pibroch's shrill summons — but not to the hall. 

" 'Tis the summons of heroes for conquest or death, 
When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath ; 
They call to the dirk, the claymore, and the targe. 
To the march and the muster, the Hne and the charge." 

There are a few scenes intimately associated with the celebrated 
chieftain, and not introduced in the novel, such as his "prison" on 
Loch Lomond, below Inversnaid landing, and his cave (Craigroy- 
ston), one and three quarters miles north of the last, " a wild, deep, 
cavern," where he is said to have planned some of his raids. Two 
circles painted on the rock now mark it. About a dozen miles 
north of Callander, at Balquhidder village, may be seen his burial- 



''SCOTTS GLASGOW.'' 1S7 

place, commemorated in Wordsworth's poem, " Rob Roy's Grave,' 
and containing the remains of this last of the predatory Highland- 
border chieftains. 

" Scott's Glasgow." 

" I TRAVELLERS through the Lands of Scott are supposed, while 
-■- visiting the scenes of " Rob Roy," to make the only visit pro- 
posed to the important city of Glasgow and its vicinity. There is a 
vast deal, of course, to see in that region, not associated with Scott, 
of which the local guide-books tell enough. Besides places in the 
city already mentioned as associated with the Great Magician, 
there will be found in George Square, where most travellers will 
sojourn, a sort of Doric column, about eighty feet high, bearing a 
large standing statue by Ritchie, erected in 1837, as a memorial to 
him. Around it, appropriately, stand effigies of other great men. 

In 1817, the same year in which "Rob Roy" was written, its 
author visited Glasgow, and examined scenes there that he associ- 
ated with it. He does not, however, appear to have spent much 
time, at any period, in the city, and there are not many spots in it 
connected with his personal history. 

Glasgow is, as indicated, a capital point from which to make ex- 
cursions into Lands of Scott, and this chapter may close with brief 
recapitulation of them. 

Associated with " Rob Roy " (besides the Cathedral, the Saut 
Market, the Bridge, and University, in Glasgow), are the scenes 
reached by rail to Bucklyvie and by the Loch Lomond steamer, and 
described on pages 180 to 185. 

Associated with "Old Mortahty" (chapter xxii.) is the scenery 
around Bothwell Brigg and Castle, accessible by rail or carriage 
from Glasgow, and described on pages 194-6, and Lanark. 

Associated with " Castle Dangerous " (chapter xxiii.) is Douglas 
Dale, accessible from Lanark. 

Associated with the closing scenes of " The Heart of Mid-Lo- 
thian " (chapter xxix.) is the pleasant region around Gare Loch, 
easily reached by steamer down the Clyde. 

Associated with the latter portions of the poem, " The Lord of 
the Isles" (chapter xiii.), are parts of the picturesque Isle of Arran. 
(pages 1 16-17), accessible by steamer; and of the Ayrshire coast, 
accessible by railway, from Glasgow to Ayr, " The Land of Burns,' 
and then on foot or by carriage. 



iSS " OLD mortality:' 

XXII. 
"Old Mortality." 



'"i/th Novel of the Series; Written 1816; Published Dec. i, 1816; Author's Age, 45 
Time of Action, May 5, 1679-1690. 

EXPLORATION of the Lands of Scott has been supposed, as 
already shown, to lead from Carlisle to Glasgow. Between 
these two cities, and, parenthetically, between scenes of " Rob 
Roy," are interesting places associated with this capital story. 
There are two classes of these places, — one relating to the histori- 
cal subject, vividly illustrated by this novel, and one to the real or 
supposed scenes of its incidents. Both classes can be visited from 
either of the cities just named, or the former class from Moffat, — 
d pretty watering-place nearly midway, — and the latter from Lan- 
ark, nearer Glasgow. 

" Old MortaHty " has been called the " Marmion " of the Waver- 
ley novels. Its character is certainly animated and quite historical. 
It was the first novel in which Scott reproduced the aspects of the 
past almost entirely from resources of study rather than from those 
of observation. The success is triumphant. Again, for this work, 
Mr. Train (page 161) provided much material and rendered assist- 
ance by collecting and supplying information about incidents. The 
more historical features are delineated from public or printed au- 
thorities rather well known, and present Scott's conceptions of the 
general subject of which he treats in this story, — that of the West- 
country Covenanters during the latter part of the seventeenth cen- 
tury. " The remarkable person [he stated in the introduction, 1829] 
called by the title of Old Mortality was well known in Scotland 
about the end of the last century. His real name was Robert 
Paterson. He was a native, it is said, of the parish of Closeburn, 
in Dumfries-shire, and probably a mason by profession." Scott 
met him, for the only time, at the churchyard or castle of Dunottar 
(Kincardine), in 1793. During about forty years his sole occupa- 
tion was that of repairing and recutting inscriptions upon tomb- 
stones erected to Covenanters who had suffered for conscience' 
sake. Many of these memorials are scattered in remote spots 



'' OLD MORTALITY^ 189 

throughout south-western Scotland. Their protector, during a visit 
to some of these near Bankend, parish of Caerlaverock, about eight 
miles from Dumfries, was found by the roadside, seriously ill, and 
was thence taken to a house where he soon died. He was buried 
in the churchyard of Caerlaverock, where no stone marked the 
place of his repose, until recently, when Messrs. Black, the emi- 
nent Edinburgh publishers of Scott's works, caused to be erected 
on the spot a round-topped, red freestone, bearing a crossed mallet 
and chisel over the following inscription : " Erected | To The Mem- 
ory I of I Robert Paterson | The | Old Mortality | of | Sir Walter 
Scott I who was Buried Here | February, 1801. 

" Why seeks he with unwearied toil 

Through Death's dim walls to urge his way, 
Reclaim his long arrested spoil, 
And lead oblivion into day? " 

The West-country Covenanters were a peculiar people. Scott 
endeavored to portray them correctly, and also their great oppo 
nent, John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount of Dundee, an officer 
so prominent in the royal service, and in his pursuit of these per- 
sons, against whom he was commissioned, and whose character, 
Scott is reported to have said, has been " foully traduced ; . . . who, 
every inch a soldier and a gentleman, still passed among the Scot- 
tish vulgar for a ruffian desperado ; who rode a goblin horse ; was 
proof against shot, and in league with the devil." He was, at least, 
a soldier detailed to unfortunate duty. 

Whatever opinion, between exaggerated praise or censure, may 
now be held respecting these Covenanters, we can but believe 
them, in some manner, worthy of the enthusiastic regard they have 
gained among a large and respectable class of their countrymen. 
They were strong religious zealots, opposed in faith and in politics 
to the existing powers of Church and of State, at a period when 
religious feeling was often extremely violent. They erred in regard 
to their worldly interests, and in regard to policy, and had not all 
the lovable qualities ; but few have hved more devotedly or have 
demonstrated more earnestly the stern virtues of Scottish character. 
Whatever are the opinions of travellers now respecting them, all 
may be interested in visiting a wild and picturesque region conse- 
crated by their sufferings, borne while they served, even to death, 
what they honestly believed duty to liberty of faith and of practice. 

Accordingly, we may well employ a day, while at the pretty little 



190 *' OLD MORTALITY.'' 

spa, Moffat, already named, by driving and walking into the recesses 
of the Middle Border hill-country, accessible up the vale of Moffat 
water. We shall thus be able to see remarkable places associated 
with the Covenanters and the general subject of the novel sketched 
in this chapter ; and also not a few objects suggestive of legend 
and of poetry. 

One of the first of these latter that may be seen, after leaving 
Moffat on this excursion, is Cragieburn, known in Burns's verses, 
— "Sweet fa's the Eve on Cragieburn," — and also in Hogg's bal- 
lad, " Mess John," and where lived that " lass with golden locks." 
This place is on the north side of the vale, and is shown by trees 
and a plain house. The burn flows through a very small wooded 
ravine. A mile farther, on the south side of the road are, or were, 
two little, whitewashed cottages, in one of which it is said, that 
" Willie brewed a peck o' maut." About six miles from Moffat, and 
also southward, is the farm-house of Bodsbeck, situated within a 
confined plantation of Scotch firs and ash- trees, and very suggestive 
of the Ettrick Shepherd. Immediately behind and above it is the 
Great Hill of Bodsbeck, a lofty tumular mass, picturesquely varied 
in form, on the bare, grass-grown surfaces of which graze many 
sheep. All along this side of the route is a range of hills, and 
closely opposite this, the steep and high prominently pointed moun- 
tain Saddleback. In this vicinity was enacted not a little of Hogg's 
interesting story about Covenanters, " The Brownie of Bodsbeck." 

Ten miles from Moffat, and a short distance northward from the 
road, is the " Gray Mare's Tail," the highest waterfall in southern 
Scotland. A rather narrow stream, whitened in plunges over rough 
rocks, pours, in one broad, broken sheet, over a precipitous crag of 
jagged, eccentrically stratified, gray rock, forming the head of a 
lateral ravine, and bounding a dark pool that receives the waters. 
Thence these dash on to, and through, the great vale of the Moffat. 
The entire height of the fall is about three hundred and fifty feet. 
It is part of a capital example of pecuharly Scottish scenery, — ro- 
mantic, although wild, bare, rocky, and almost treeless ; indeed, 
it has little vegetation besides grasses, ferns, and a few whin-bushes 
or other small plants. 

A little farther up the vale is " Dobb's Linn," deriving the latter 
part of its name from the precipitous crag nearly three hundred feet 
high that it presents, and the former portion from a legend, slightly 
profane and apocryphal, of two worthies of the Covenant, who, 



OLD MORTALITY. 



191 



assaulted here by the Great Enemy, stoutly drove him to the brink 
and over it. He at once changed himself into a bundle of skins, 
and tumbled safely down the steep, and escaped with only a sound 
beating, received before his miraculous descent, from the two stout 
and pious mortals, named Hab Dobson and Davie Din : 

•' men o' nierk, an' men o' mense ; 
Men o" grace, and men o' sense ; " 
*' Little kend the wirrikow 
What the Covenant would dow I " 
• " For Hab Dob an' Davie Din 

Dang the Deil owre Dob's Linn." 

Near this place is a high, bare hill-top, called " Watch Knowe," 
or Hill, where the Covenanters, when they assembled in this vicin- 
ity as they often did, were accustomed to place a sentinel to watch 
for pursuers. There is also, in the linn, a cave used by some of 
the worthies. 

Eleven and a half miles from Moffat, at Birkhill, is a rustic inn. 
Before it, Claverhouse is said to have shot four Covenanters, 
From it, is perhaps the most convenient access to Loch Skene, a 
small and very secluded lake, nearly two miles distant among the 
hills, where may be found a remarkably impressive scene, described 
(like the " Tail " fall) by Scott in the introduction to the Second 
Canto of " Marmion," in hues beginning, — 

" There eagles scream from shore to shore ; 
Down all the rocks the torrents roar ; 
O'er the black waves incessant driven, 
Dark mists infect the summer heaven." 

There can scarcely be found in a country as ancient and populous 
as southern Scotland, another scene of such utter and impressive 
loneliness as that visible from a height east of this lake. Every- 
where around is a wide tract of great, heavy, rounded hills, destitute 
of trees, and forming one vast extent of brown-russet moorland, 
crossed and seamed by black mosses, with treacherous depths of 
soft mud, and broken by deeply cleft burn ravines. The prevailing 
tone of color is varied only where the higher surfaces present tints 
of grayish or brownish green, with here and there, exceptionally, 
an exposure of brighter hue. No human dwelling, and scarcely a 
sign of human work or life appears. And this barren and forsaken 
region was once a land of refuge to the Covenanters, and even yet 
is peculiarly haunted with stories of their trials. To a first look. 



193 " OLD mortality:^ 

there hardly seem to be many hiding-places in such an open coun- 
try ; but examination of it shows that its surfaces are too rough and 
unreHable to permit movements by mounted troopers like the "per- 
secutors." Lightly dressed persons could, with knowledge of it, 
readily gain advantages, or find escape among its intricacies. In 
addition to these, dense, impenetrable mists, that frequently and 
suddenly envelop it, utterly perplex strangers. Thus adapted to 
purposes of fugitives, it became a chosen retreat of the hunted Cov- 
enanters. And there, in the gloom of clouds or of night, when 
alone they could venture from hiding-places, they assembled for 
that worship denied them in their homes, 

" From the midst of that inhospitable wilderness," wrote James 
Hogg, "from those dark morasses, and unfrequented caverns, the 
prayers of the persecuted race nightly rose to the throne of the 
Almighty ; prayers, as all testified who heard them, fraught with 
the most simple pathos, as well as bold and vehement sublimity." 
Nightly, were "songs of praise sung" "with ardor and wild mel 
ody " " to that Being under whose fatherly chastisement they were 
patiently suffering." 

Amidst these cheerless wastes, while the last reigning Stuarts strug- 
gled against rehgious freedom in Britain, the Covenanters prayed 
and chanted, endured and died. Since their days the region is prob- 
ably unchanged, — bhghted as if in retribution for the sorrows they 
bore while in it, and rendered a vast abiding monument, silent, yet 
awful in expressiveness, — God's visible memorial of their devotion. 

From Birkhill, travellers should go, about four miles farther, to 
" Tibby Shiels," a small but well-known comfortable inn. long kept 
by Mrs. Isabella Richardson, from whom it derives its name. It is 
in one of the most poetic regions of all poetic Scotland. Near it 
is an appropriate statue of the Ettrick Shepherd. West of it is the 
Loch of the Lowes, and east of it the famous lake of the Border 
lands. Saint Mary's Loch. The charms of the latter have been 
sung by many poets. It will be again visited when the route of 
the Tour leads southward from Scotland, and when (in chapter 
xxxiii.) another series of scenes is sketched, — lands pecuharly 
those of the reiver and the foray, of ballad and of poetic legends, 
as the places just described are lands of the Covenanter. 

On the north side of Saint Mary's Loch (at the base of the great, 
bare hills that environ both lakes), is a disused graveyard, where 
many Covenanters were buried. The oldest date, however, that 



"OLD MORTALITY." 1 93 

the writer remembers to have found there was 1718. It is a sad 
and lonely spot, even for the last resting-place. " O lone St. Mary 
of the waves " is the beginning of a poem about it, written by 
Hogg, and containing the appropriate stanza, — 

" Here lie those who, o'er flood and field, 

Were hunted as the osprey's brood ; 
Who braved the power of man, and sealed 

Their testimonies with their blood 

But long as waves that wilder'd flood, 
Their sacred memory shall be dear; 

And all the righteous and the good 
O'er their low graves shall drop the tear." 

At the western end of the Loch of the Lowes — that towards 
Moifat — are Riskenhope and Chapelhope, described in the story 
of " The Brownie of Bodsbeck ; " indeed, the latter is one of its 
chief localities. The Laidlaws of that place, ancestors of Hogg, 
were very friendly to the persecuted, and appear as prominent 
actors in that capital story of the Covenanters. Near Riskenhope, 
James Renwick, one of the latest of the Scottish martyrs, preached 
for the last time. 

The most touching story, however, that is told of any of these 
places is perhaps Professor Wilson's " Covenanters' Marriage 
Day," said to have been suggested by a tradition of an incident 
that shows what might have been experienced in this region by 
true-hearted people during the reign of James IL The marriage, 
performed in a secluded dell on the farm of Chapelhope, was be 
tween Mary Stewart — known, from her beauty, as in her time "the 
Flower of Yarrow" — and a young Laidlaw. The ceremony, closing 
a long betrothal, and seemingly beginning a happy wedded life, was 
almost immediately followed by an attack of royal soldiers upon the 
bridal party while that was retiring homeward. The commanding 
officer arrested the bridegroom, and, after a brief trial, caused him 
to be shot in a cold-blooded manner, for the crime of Presbyterian- 
ism. He died hke a martyr, speaking sacred words. His bride, 
shocked by the outrage, soon lost her reason, and, like a spectre, 
haunted these scenes where she should have lived happy. While 
many a family history, and many a wild but familiar landscape, tell 
of such possible events as this, we feel how the influence of the 
devotion and the trials of the persecuted can now animate so many 
cf those who have succeeded them in the land, and' in the pictu • 
resque places that once knew them. 

13 



194 



OLD MORTAL! Tl. 



Exploration of the reputed scenes of the action of " Old Mor- 
tality " leads from St. Mary's Loch, and from Moffat, to Lanark, 
near the railway line to Glasgow. At Lanark are the varied falls 
of the Clyde, — the Linns of Bonnington, Corra, and Stonebyres, 
forming the Trenton of Scotland, and the chief attraction to the 
region in which they are. The Cartland Craigs, not far distant, 
bounding the deep, romantic ravine of the Meuse, also gain much 
attention, and are worthy of it. The action of the story opens at a 
place not accurately definable, and yet in the neighborhood of 
Lanark, — "a wild district called the upper ward of Clydesdale, on 
a haugh or level plain, near to a royal borough, the name of which 
[says Scott] is no way essential to my story." At this place, "on 
the morning of the 5th of May, 1679," was a " wappen-schaw," or 
muster of a semi-feudal mihtia, held by the sheriff of Lanark. At 
this muster, among other persons, were two ladies, mounted, — 
Lady Bellenden and " her grand-daughter and only earthly care, the 
fair-haired Edith, who was generally allowed to be the prettiest lass 
in the Upper Ward." Accompanying her ladyship was her contin- 
gent of militia-men, including a certain unhappy and inefficient 
young man, Guse Gibbie, who was, by dire necessity, promoted 
from the plough to the guise of trooper, and who, physically unable 
to maintain this imposing character, was, to the mortification of his 
liege mistress, ignominiously tumbled from his jackboots and his 
runaway horse. One of the chief exercises at the muster was 
shooting at a mark, or " Popinjay." The prize for proficiency was 
won against a Lord Evandale by Henry Morton, son of a deceased 
covenanting colonel, and nephew of a miser named Morton, who 
lived, not far distant, at an imaginary seat called Milnwood. 

Soon after this trial of skill there was, at a neighboring ale-house, 
a scene characteristic of the times. Among many persons from 
the muster, appeared there a company of troopers searching for the 
murderers of Archbishop Sharpe, who was killed May 3, 1679, on 
Magus Muir, three miles from St. Andrews. Out of the crowd and 
confusion consequent, escaped a fierce whig, Balfour of Burley, 
commander of the assassins. He induced young Morton to conceal 
him in an outbuilding at Milnwood, and thus involved the young 
gentleman in a rather prolonged career of personal troubles. Nat- 
urally enough, the fugitive was traced, and Milnwood was searched, 
but unsuccessfully, by the soldiers. This event, and other affairs, 
brought on a harsh interview between the uncle and the nephew. 



OLD mortality: 



^95 



In course of time and opportunity, Balfour departed. Henry Mor 
ton, who was, and who had been awhile, dependent upon his 
miserly and unamiable relative, meditated departure from Scotland. 
In addition to other trials, he bore a seemingly hopeless love for 
Edith Bellenden. Her family, in the language of the times, thor- 
oughly " well aifected " to the government, was utterly opposed to 
his — a whig or, at least, an "indulged" family, one barely tolerated, 
but disapproved. He felt that restraints of artificial society must 
prove stronger than affection. 

Lady Bellenden and Edith, after the muster, returned home, to 
the castle of the Bellendens, — Tillietudlem, said to be now known 
as Craignethan Castle, situated about five miles from Lanark, and 
repaying a visit. At it transpired many of the more important 
incidents recorded of the chief characters of the story. 

Craignethan is a mere shell and wreck of its former self; yet, 
like most ruined castles, it is not wanting in picturesqueness and 
romance, — qualities that pertain intrinsically to them as to Scott's 
stories, to moonlight, or to fairyland. The structure is approached 
by a road similar to that described in the novel, — steep, winding, and 
stony, and leading through a ford of the Nethan. This is a shallow 
stream, flowing over a stony bed, and bending around a point that 
rises, with gray, rocky crags, and steep, grass or tree-grown banks, 
to a commanding elevation, on which is the castle, built of sandstone, 
now faded and weather-worn. The extern of the castle was once 
great ; even now there is a large garden within its walls. The 
keep, at the outer or river side, is very ruinous. Although, as 
stated, the structure is much dilapidated ; and although large 
quantities of materials have been taken from it, we are told, for 
the construction of ignoble buildings, — there can yet be found in it 
many picturesque combinations of wall and tower, of stone-arched 
ceiling, or of broken vaulting, streaming with graceful sprays of ivy ; 
or of shattered battlements, garlanded with shrubbery. A story 
told of many old residences is told of this : Queen Mary of Scots 
is said to have occupied (during several days before the battle of 
Langside) a large hall, yet partly existing here, and called the 
Queen's room. Craignethan has been an important fortress, held 
by Hamiltons, by Hays, and by Douglases. The scenery around 
it has some degree of grandeur as well as of beauty. Sir Walter 
was so much pleased with the place that the proprietor offered him 
use for life of a small house within the walls. The writer was told 



196 ''OLD mortality:' 

that the novel is commemorated here by quite a large periodical 
festivity, held by the families of farmers and others, and called the 
" Tillietudlem Ball." 

In the course of the action of the story, Henry Morton was 
arrested at Milnwood, on suspicion of giving aid and comfort to 
rebellious whigs, and was brought a prisoner to Tillietudlem, where 
he was confined, — it being considered by established authorities a 
safe stronghold in possession of loyal persons. There he was ex- 
amined by John Graham of Claverhouse, that famous Dundee, so 
praised by friends and hated by opponents, of whom an opinion by 
Scott has already been expressed in this chapter. The hero of the 
story, this young Morton, endured an exciting crisis in his life while 
he was thus treated. 

An outbreak by the Covenanters, in military force, brought on a 
severe encounter (June i, 1679) between them and the royal troops 
under Claverhouse, at Drumclog, in which the latter were defeated. 
Persons curious about this dreary battle, or its site, can see the 
field about fifte^ miles westward from Craignethan and towards 
Newmilns, whence it is most readily accessible during an excursion 
from Glasgow to Ayr and " The Land of Burns." The defeat and 
consequent retreat of the royal forces, was followed by a movement 
of the " insurgents " on Tillietudlem, and by the additional fortifi- 
cation of that place, and by an attack on it, persistently maintained 
and withstood. The story of this siege, like the stories of others 
described by the Great Magician, can be recalled, and, in fancy, re- 
enacted on the supposed site of occurrence, and with interest and 
imaginative pleasure proportionate to the represented danger and 
earnestness of the action revived. Indeed, few places in the lands 
explored during this tour allow or induce more active exercise of our 
recreative faculties, than do these old strongholds where exciting 
military operations are represented to have been executed. The 
story of the siege of Tillietudlem is too long to be adequately 
sketched here ; but memory or reading will enable visitors at Craig- 
nethan to render its walls and towers and picturesque vicinity 
more animated and even more romantic than they may be found 
by merely bodily sight. Results of the siege change the scenes of 
the novel to places of which particular identification is hardly pos- 
sible, except, perhaps, at Bothwell Brigg, the celebrated locality of 
the great defeat of the Covenanters, June 22, 1679. After the fight 
at Drumclog, they accumulated a formidable force, and continued 



♦' OLD mortality:' 197 

their violent opposition to the rule of Charles II. The Brigg, or 
bridge, may be visited, on the route from Lanark to Glasgow, either 
by rail or by coach road. The latter way is recommended, on account 
of the superior views that it commands. Perhaps a better arrange- 
ment may be an excursion, by rail or carriage, from Glasgow to 
Hamilton (ten miles), where can be seen the palatial seat of the 
Dukes of Hamilton, and Cadyow Castle, scene of Scott's admirable 
ballad of that name ; and thence to the Brigg, and to Bothwell 
Castle, and, finally, from Uddingston Station back to Glasgow, if 
this excursion is made chiefly by rail. 

Bothwell Bridge, situated two miles, nearly north-west, from 
Hamilton, is, substantially, very ancient ; but was much altered and 
"modernized" in 1826. Its width was then increased from twelve 
to thirty-two feet. It formerly had, at its elevated centre, a strong 
tower and gateway. Many features of the neighboring country have 
also been changed since the battle that was fought, upon or near 
the bridge, and that is vividly described in the novel. Several 
other objects render the vicinity unusually interesting. 

About a mile east from the battle-ground is Bothwelhaugh, site 
of the residence of James Hamilton, who shot the Regent Murray. 
A little farther is a Roman bridge. The lands bordering upon the 
river abound in rural beauty, especially near Bothwell Castle, not 
far from the brigg, and are worthy of the good old song that cel- 
ebrates them, " O Bothwell bank ! thou bloomest fair." 

Bothwell Castle — worthy of the great and ancient family, the 
Douglas, that long held it — rises vast and grand upon a bold, 
green height above the encircling Clyde. It is built of grit, or 
friable red sandstone, and presents a front two hundred and thirty- 
four feet long ; in some places sixty feet high, and flanked by lofty 
towers. Many of the principal apartments can now be traced or 
identified. Much of the area within the walls is, however, at present 
converted into a bowling-green or a flower-garden. 

Scott began a ballad about this place, with the lines, — 

*' If chance, by Bothwell's lovely braes, 
A wanderer thou hast been." 

A lofty tower commands magnificent views. Not far distant, on 
a beautiful lawn, is the new residence of the family, — a very large 
edifice, but not very noticeable for its architectural character. 
Across the Clyde, on a steep and rocky bank, are the ruins of 



198 " OLD mortality:' 

Blantyre Priory, suggesting the story of " Lennox's love to Blan- 
tyre." 

One of the last scenes of the novel is at the " Black Linn of 
Linklater." There Balfour of Burley found refuge after violent 
dealings in public aifairs, and acts that complicated those of Henry 
Morton and of some of his friends ; and thither the stern Cove- 
nanter carried, for concealment and custody, many title-deeds and 
family papers, and other important documents of the Bellendens, 
that he had seized while fortunes of war had given him access to 
TiUietudlem Castle. Thither, consequently, went young Morton, 
lover of Edith Bellenden and protector of her rights. This linn is a 
representative of a form of scenery shown in several places in the 
southern part of Scotland, and rather peculiar to the country, unless 
the stupendous canons of Western America are considered of the 
same style in its most enormous development. At one of these 
linns, travellers can imagine the interview that is represented to 
have occurred between the two men of this story. In an open 
extent of wild region a deep ravine will be found, unexpectedly 
opening with sides of precipitous crags, rough and shrub-grown, 
and a cascade and dashing stream that render access to its recesses 
very difficult. The Covenanters, not infrequently, found a refuge 
in such places ; and in such the stern and desperate Balfour is to 
be imagined hiding in a cavern. The usually reputed original of 
his retreat is Crichup Linn, said to have been really a hiding-place 
of Covenanters. It is situated a few miles from Closeburn village, 
and a station a dozen miles from Dumfries (page 151). A stream 
plunges eighty-five feet into a dark, rugged, red sandstone chasm, 
wild and picturesque enough to interest a visitor, apart from asso- 
ciations that render it attractive. At some distance below the cas- 
cade, the water has worn in the rock a long, deep passage, so 
narrow that it might almost be crossed by a single leap of an active 
man. This " peculiarly romantic linn," says an old account, " inac- 
cessible in a great measure to real beings, was considered as the 
habitation of imaginary ones ; and at the entrance into it there was 
a curious cell or cave, called the Elf s Kirk, where, according to the 
superstition of the times, the imaginary inhabitants of the linn were 
supposed to hold their meetings." This cave has been made a 
quarry for building-stones. There is a curious, natural, chair-like 
seat, also in the chasm, called " the Sutor's seat," where a cove- 
nanting shoemaker found a concealed resting-place. " Nothing 



•' CAS TLB DANGER US:' 1 99 

[says the account already quoted] can be more striking than the 
appearance of this linn from its bottom. The darkness of the place, 
upon which the sun never shines ; the ragged rocks, rising over 
one's head, and seeming to meet at the top, with here and there a 
blasted tree bursting from the crevices ; the rumbling of the water 
falling from rock to rock, and forming deep pools, together with 
some degree of danger to the spectator, whilst he surveys the striking 
objects that present themselves to his view, — all naturally tend to 
work upon the imagination. Hence many fabulous stories are told, 
and perhaps were once believed, concerning this curious linn." In 
this neighborhood, closes the action of the story, — its episodes of 
love and of private fortunes ending with its delineations of pubhc 
affairs, and of the vicissitudes of members of that remarkable com- 
bination it so distinctly portrays. 

In scenery associated with the characteristics, the trials, and suf- 
ferings of the Covenanters, we may accordingly, in an appropriate 
manner, turn our attention from Scott's remarkable representation 
of them, and of effects that he shows they produced upon the his- 
tory of the Bellendens and of Henry Morton ; while we yet cherish 
in memory the great novelist's story, and the rare and touching 
devotion of the humble hero who has supplied for it his own quaint 
title, — " Old Mortality." 



XXIII. 

" Castle Dangerous." 

Thirty-second and last Novel 0/ the Series ; Time of Action, 1306-7; Published at tht 
close of November, 1831 ; Author'' s Age, 60. 

npHE chief interest of this novel may be in the fact that it is the 
-*- last of the Waverleys. As a hterary composition it does not 
possess the highest excellence ; and it is evidently inferior to many 
of the series to which it belongs. Yet it has an interest and 
a value perhaps superior to even literary value, important as that 
is ; for it is the work of one of the world's real heroes, when severe 
illness was irremediably fixed upon him, and when body and mind 



200 " CASTLE DANGEROUSr 

were failing under unremitted and gigantic labors that were wearing 
away, while they glorified, the latter years and months of his event- 
ful life ; for this is the work of a knight not only peerless in the 
domains of Romance, but unsurpassed by any in practical chivalry 
of business honor and of daily life, — his final work while he was 
falling, dying, in manly devotion to honesty, in courageous conflict 
with cruel adversity. And although this composition is less splen- 
did than are the works of his full strength, still let us honor and 
love it for the record it forms in the noble story of his character. 

The scenery associated with this novel is chiefly that of Douglas 
Dale, — a region not yet seen by the writer, but described as most 
readily accessible from Lanark, either by walking or by public or 
private carriage. Castle Dangerous is the ancient castle of Doug- 
las, situated eleven miles from Lanark. One round tower, ruined 
and ivy-draped, is said to be the only portion of it remaining ; and 
even of this tower quite a large part of the wall is broken out, from 
foundation upwards. Near the ruin is the stately modern Castle 
Douglas, surrounded by magnificent grounds. A town, bearing the 
name of the great family, and about a mile distant, is said to be a 
small, decayed place. A portion is preserved of its ancient church 
of St. Bride, containing monuments to members of the Douglas 
family, and described in the novel. 

The vale of Douglas has not only associations with turbulent 
mediaeval times illustrated in this story, but also with the Cov- 
enanters, — some of whom found secure refuge within it. The 
scenery is generally attractive. The upper portion of the vale is 
rather elevated, " and flanked with high moorish or pastoral hills ; 
but afterwards" it becomes "a fine strath, flanked with sloping 
ascents, and extensively clothed with plantations ; and at last it 
becomes a rich dale, expanding far in fertile haughs, and rising 
sideward into fine wooded banks and swells." 

There is a sad and pecuhar interest associated with this region, 
chief natural scene in the last novel of Sir Walter Scott ; for to it, 
during the latter part of July, 1831, he made his last long excursion 
in Scotland, through the fair and storied land he loved so well. 
His allusion to this visit, in the preface of the novel, is indeed 
pathetic in its quiet narration, and its history ; for he sent it, in 
February, 1832, from Naples, where he was in vain seeking allevia- 
tion or arrest of disease already growing fatal. 

" The author," he says, " before he had made much progress in 



'' CASTLE dangerous:' 20I 

this, probably the last of his novels, undertook a journey to Doug- 
lasdale for the purpose of examining the remains of the famous 
Castle, the Kirk of St. Bride of Douglas, the patron saint of that 
great family, and the various localities alluded to by Godscroft, in 
his account of the early adventures of good Sir James ; but though 
he was fortunate enough to find a zealous and well-informed cice- 
rone in Mr. Thomas Haddow, and had every assistance from the 
kindness of Mr. Alexander Finlay, the resident chamberlain of his 
friend, Lord Douglas, the state of his health at the time was so 
feeble, that he found himself incapable of pursuing his researches, 
as in better days he would have delighted to do, and was obliged 
to be contented with such a cursory view of scenes, in themselves 
most interesting, as could be snatched in a single morning, when 
any bodily exertion was painful." 

Mr. Lockhart (in chapter Ixxx. of " The Life ") has left a very 
interesting account of this "journey to Douglasdale," during which 
he accompanied Sir Walter. " We set out," the biographer wrote, 
"early on the i8th [July], and ascended the Tweed, passing in 
succession Yair, Ashestiel, Innerleithen, Traquair, and many more 
scenes dear to his early life, and celebrated in his writings," — in- 
cluding Drochel Castle, Biggar, the inn of Douglas Mill (where he 
spent a night), Douglas Castle, the Church of St. Bride near it ; 
and, during the return, Milton-Lockhart, seat of Mr. Lockhart's 
brother. Scott retained much of the humor and feeling of his best 
years. He frequently repeated passages of poetry, — often long, — 
and among these, at an appropriate moment, "without break or 
hesitation, Prior's verses to the historian Mezeray. That he ap- 
plied them to himself [wrote his biographer], was touchingly obvi- 
ous." One of these verses is so applicable to him, and so terse 
and expressive, that it should be quoted, — and scarcely another 
can form a more proper close to this brief mention of the last long 
pilgrimage of Sir Walter Scott to shrines of the story of his native 
land, — ever shrines of his affections : — 

" Whate'er thy countrymen have done, 
By law and wit, by sword and gun, 

In thee is faithfully recited ; 
And all the living world that view 
Thy works, give thee the praises due — 

At once instructed and delighted." 



C02 "^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE:' 

XXIV. 

"A Legend of Montrose." 

THE REGION OF THE TROSACHS, AND THE WEST COAST. 

Ninth Novel of the Series., written 1819 ; Published Jime 10, 1819 ; Time of Action of 
the Story 1645-6 ; Author'' s Age, 48. 

T VISITS to scenery of this interesting story lead us from Glas- 
^ gow, and regions described in the last three chapters, to that 
portion of Scotland where the Highlands join the Lowlands near 
Callander, and thence through the country of " The Lady of the 
Lake," to central portions of the western coasts. Thence, the route 
of this tour extends to scenes of "The Lord of the Isles*" (pages 
103-116), and to Orkney and Shetland in the distant north. 

After departure from Glasgow the first stop may be at Stirling. 
There will be found much that is associated with the long course 
of Scottish history, and, from the famous old castle, so interesting 
in the fortunes of " The Lady," Ellen Douglas (pages 69-75), may 
also be found one of the most extensive and noble landscapes in 
Britain. Not far from Stirling is Bannockburn, glorious in history 
and in the romance of "The Lord of the Isles" (page 119). In 
another direction, and in sight from Stirling, is the Abbey Craig, 
over five hundred feet high, bearing a monument to tower two hun- 
dred and twenty feet above it, built in the baronial style of Scotland 
to her hero, Sir William Wallace. The many natives of other lands 
who honor his memory, will cordially say of it, with his countrymen, 
and with her (C. E. Norton) who has written so well of the memo- 
rial and of the patriot, — 

" While the great rock he watched from shall endure, 
His monument is sure. 

Build low — build high — 
The great name cannot die ! " 

And while we look from the stately walls of the castle upon the 
wide panoramic view they command, we may see, in long array 
northward, the majestic and beautiful mountains of Perthshire, that 
appear always inviting us to explore their picturesque scenery, to 
which the pathway of travel, as well as our inclinations, will con- 
duct us. 



"A LEGEND OF MONTROSEr 203 

We can go first to Callander, — a central point from which such 
researches may be made, — and find near it the opening scene of 
this story, one of the shorter, yet one of the more exciting, of Scott's 
novels. Or we may go from Stirling to Crieff, and thence to Aber- 
feldy, three miles from which is Grandtully Castle, a supposed 
original of Tully Veolan in "Waverley" (page 141); and at which 
are the three beautiful falls of Moness, celebrated by Burns in the 
verses, — 

*' The braes ascend like lofty wa's, 
The foaming stream, deep roaring, fa's, 
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws, 
The Birks of Aberfeldy." 

Thence this excursion leads to Kenmore, also described by Burns, 
and near the magnificent seat of the Marquis of Breadalbane, — 
Taymouth Castle. Thence the road leads along the border of 
Loch Tay — one of the noblest of Scottish lakes — to Kilhn ; and 
then past Rob Roy's country, Balquhidder, to Lochearnhead. Be- 
tween the last named place and Callander, fourteen miles distant, 
is the Pass of Leni, and in it we are introduced to the action 
described in this " Legend of Montrose " From Callander our way 
will be nine miles to the Trosachs, and scenery of " The Lady of 
the Lake," sketched in chapter vii. 

No region, except that around Melrose and Abbotsford, is more 
thoroughly and delightfully associated with Scott and with his crea- 
tions than this within the circuit of a dozen miles from the Tros- 
achs : it deserves and rewards complete exploration. And before 
the "Legend" and its scenery are sketched, there cannot be a 
more proper introduction, than description of a wide, grand outlook 
upon this peculiarly attractive and suggestive region of his en- 
chanted lands, from a point, identified with no one of his creations, 
yet commanding view of many places that are. This point is the 
summit of Ben Ledi, the great " Hill of God ; " named thus because, 
it is said, the Druids there performed rites of fire-worship. The 
mountain and its top are easily reached from the Trosachs Inn by 
a walk of a few miles along the Callander road, and over the Brig 
of Turk, and thence, to the left, by a little path beside the Teith to 
a small hamlet, in the depths of Glenfinlas, encompassed by grand 
hills that rise close around it. This hamlet represents not a few 
found in the Highlands. It consisted, when the writer saw it, of 
one good, single-storied house, and a few long, low, narrow huts. 



204 "A LEGEND OF 3f ON THOSE.'' 

rude and cheerless, with rough stone walls (some, of the better 
class only, whitewashed), and with thatched roofs sloping almost 
to the ground. From this place the way is over uneven declivities, 
directly to the summit of Ben Ledi, distinctly visible when the 
weather is proper for mountain excursions in Scotland. From the 
direction of this approach Ben Ledi appears to be a long ridge, 
rising to a rounded top, and declining rather steeply to the right 
(the south). Along the way is the variety of surface presented 
by bogs, streams, water-courses in grass, mosses, heather, peat, and 
gray, lichen-grown, broken rocks. The summit should be reached 
in about two hours from the Trosachs. It is almost covered with 
soft sward, grasses, and little plants. Its height is 2,882 feet. 

The natural features of the view from Ben Ledi are very diversi- 
fied. Eastward, over the Pass of Leni, a deep ravine with steep 
sides, and over Strath Ire and gleaming reaches of Loch Lubnaig, 
are irregular elevations, beyond which are the broad, long Uam- 
Var, and "lone" Glen Artney. Close to the north of these is the 
great depressed pyramidal form of Ben VoirHch ; and to the south, 
the braes of Doune ; and farther, the lowlands in several shires, in 
which tower Doune and Stirhng and dark Abbey Craig. Beyond 
these are the large, dusky forms of the Ochil Hills, and almost 
over them, far distant, may be seen in clear weather the remotest 
eastward limit of the panorama, — the German Ocean and the Bass 
Rock off North Berwick. Callander seems to be nearly at one's feet. 
South of it lies the placid lake of Menteith, with its fair Inch-ma- 
home, the Isle of Rest, and beyond, a wide, rural country, bounded 
along the horizon by the extended but not high ridge of Campsie 
Fells, conspicuous towards the western end of which is the Earl's 
Seat. In this direction, closely below the crest of Ben Ledi, appear 
the lochs of Vennachar, Drunkie, and Achray, and, beyond them, a 
lofty ridge that hides Aberfoyle. More westward stands the dark, 
serrated, prolonged form of Ben Venue, backed by heights more 
wall-like in shape. Farther on towers great Ben Lomond, appear- 
ing triple-headed, and suggesting some aspects of Chocorua among 
the American White Hills. And then, all around westward and 
northward, the view sweeps — magnificent in extent and in scenery 
— from the Paps of Jura, southwest, towards Moray Firth, east of 
north — over intricate groups or ranges of mountains "that senti* 
nel enchanted ground" about Loch Katrine, where "huge Ben 
Venue " stands like a giant, and Ben An heaves " high his forehead 



".4 LEGEND OF MONTROSEr 205 

bare ; " over upper Glenfinlas, near the foreground ; and, miles dis- 
tant, north-west, upon steep and sharp Ben More, one of the 
highest elevations in Scotland, and upon the mountains in Lord 
Breadalbane's estate, that nearly crosses the kingdom ; over the 
far north, the dim peak of Ben Lawers on Loch Tay, the grassy 
braes of Balquhidder, and the great, green slopes above long Loch 
Voil ; over deep Glen Ogle, the northern ridges of Ben Ledi itself, 
and finally, again, into the profound recesses eastward where lie 
Loch Lubnaig and the Pass of Leni. 

And this vast and varied and beautiful panorama is rendered 
more charming by its eloquent suggestions of the creations of the 
Great Magician. In the deep valley of Leni, eastward, and beyond 
Ben Voirlich north of that, are earlier scenes of " A Legend of 
Montrose." On one side is Rob Roy's country, Balquhidder ; and, 
in an opposite direction, — southward, — the Highland district as- 
sociated with Scott's delightful story taking its title from the chief- 
tain's name. Around the towers of Doune and Stirling are scenes 
of " Waverley " and of the closing of the action of " The Lady of 
the Lake ; " while, nearer, can be traced the course of " The Chase," 
that began the latter, and the sites of " The Combat" that ensued. 
Beyond the Trosachs are the haunts of Ellen Douglas, romantic 
enough for fairyland. And beside these many habitations of Scott's 
creations, we think at sight of Stirling of " The Lord of the Isles ; " 
and Glenfinlas tells the ballad, bearing its name, that he wrote 
of it. Everywhere, indeed, there seems to be a memorial of some 
passage of romance or of history. Truly the ascent of Ben Ledi 
can give a healthy walk up a grand, breezy hill-side, and a view that 
will reward and inspire us. Travellers while at the Trosachs 
should not only gain, if possible, this view, and explore the country 
of " The Lady of the Lake " (described on pages 53 to 69), but also 
visit, if at no other time, Aberfoyle and Loch Ard (pages 1S0-3), 
— scenes of "Rob Roy:" and Ledeard cascade, a scene both of 
that (page 183) and of "Waverley" (page 144); and finally, then, 
or during excursions suggested already in this chapter, the opening 
scenes of " A Legend of Montrose." 

" It was," begins that story, " towards the close of a summer's 
evening, during the anxious period which we have commemorated 
[the middle of the great civil war], that a young gentleman of quali- 
ty, well mounted and armed, and accompanied by two servants, one 
of whom led a sumpter-horse, rode slowly up one of those steep 



2o6 "^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE:' 

passes, by which the Highlands are accessible from the Lowlands 
of Perthshire. Their course had lain for some time along the banks 
of a lake, whose deep waters reflected the crimson beams of the 
western sun. The broken path which they pursued, with some 
difficulty, was in some places shaded by ancient birches and oak- 
trees, and in others overhung by fragments of huge rock. Else- 
where, the hill, which formed the northern side of this beautiful 
sheet of water, arose in steep but less precipitous acclivity, and 
was arrayed in heath of the darkest purple." This " gentleman of 
quality" was the Earl of Menteith, who soon encountered, and 
made acquaintance with, another travelling horseman, — that cele- 
brated and entertaining soldier of fortune, Captain Dugald Dalgetty, 
a worthy who joined company with the Earl, and, with him, rode up 
the pass just described, now, as already intimated, identified, — the 
Pass of Leni. The writer hopes that many other travellers may 
be enabled to see its wild, romantic, and intensely Scottish scenery 
under effects of light and of shadow, as magnificent as those that 
ennobled it when he saw it. Southward was a wide prospect over 
the lowlands of Stirlingshire, then presented in all the verdure of 
summer, and the brightness of its sunshine. Along one side of the 
way, for perhaps a mile, dashed and tumbled a very picturesque 
stream. On either hand, hills arose in long slopes covered with 
thick whin and heather, or with patches of broom and birches and 
small oaks, until the road ascended to the craggy shores of Loch 
Lubnaig. Over the dark waters of this long and narrow lake tow- 
ered the steep, varied, imposing mass of Ben Ledi, around whose 
sublime head hovered great sombre thunder-clouds, underlighted by 
rays of the setting sun, yet casting deep shades over the stern, bare 
cliffs and heights of the summit of the pass. 

This scenery is indeed impressive ; and yet Americans can justly 
feel that Franconia, with her glory of hills and forests, presents 
views that are superior in noble picturesqueness. 

Birkhill, residence of " Tombea's Mary," betrothed of " Norman, 
heir of Armandave," in "The Gathering" of "The Lady of the 
Lake " (page 63), is not far from the crest of the pass ; and on a 
wooded knoll, near the former, stood the Chapel of St. Bride. 

Travellers may advance northward, as Lord Menteith and Cap- 
tain Dalgetty are supposed to have advanced, and find, to the left, 
a delightful view into the Balquhidder district — an almost triangu- 
lar, meadowy vale, more cultivated now than the neighboring land 



"^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE:' 207 

And environed by high, smooth hills, reheved in aspect by scattered 
tracts of forest. The grave of Rob Roy, who is so intimately asso- 
ciated with the district, is pointed out on a northern slope. Beyond 
Balquhidder, and an extent of wild country, is Lochearnhead. The 
party in the story is supposed to have turned to the right, to the 
eastward, here, and to have traversed a road by the side of Loch 
Earn, about half its length (of nearly seven miles), to Ardvoirlich 
(now a gentleman's seat), the reputed original of Darnlinvarach of 
the story, the castle of Angus M'Aulay. There the lord and cap- 
tain tarried awhile, and there the latter, in a business-like manner, 
joined the mihtary service of the former ; that is, of the Royal 
cause in Scotland. There, the story shows us, many Highland 
chiefs held council on the King's affairs, and were, by Menteith, 
ralhed to action in His Majesty's behalf. There also with dramat- 
ic and proper effect appeared James Graham, the " Great " Marquis 
of Montrose, whose name adorns the title of this novel. This he- 
roic nobleman, at that time only thirty-three years old, and who, as 
Lodge has said, '' deserved to have his memory preserved and cele- 
brated amongst the most illustrious persons of the age in which he 
lived," was commissioned, by the King, Lieutenant of those royal 
forces to be then raised in Scotland. And at this Darnlinvarach, 
the story tells us, were gathered the earher members of that famous 
army with which he did such gallant service. To this rendezvous 
came, also, Sir Duncan Campbell, ambassador from the Marquis of 
Argyll, who marshalled the forces opposed to the King, and who 
represented " the Scottish Convention of Estates." Sir Duncan, 
however, gained little satisfaction for himself, or for those who sent 
him. He accordingly returned to his associates. He was accom- 
panied by Dugald Dalgetty, created a major, and, for this occasion, 
an ambassador to Argyll at his ancestral castle, Inverary. The 
business of the major's mission related to a proposal by Argyll, 
through Campbell, for a truce to civil feuds, — a mere pretext, treat- 
ment of which imposed peculiar risk upon any royalist messenger 
to the great "insurgent" " McCallum More," as the Marquis was 
styled in the Highlands. 

Travellers after leaving the region of the Trosachs will be led 
by the route of this tour, and by the geography and the attractions 
of the country, in the direction taken by these ambassadors, who 
first went by ways then devious and difficult to Sir Duncan's castle 
on the west coast, that travellers, after awhile, may now be enabled 
to identify. 



2o8 "^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE V 

Previously, however, we may briefly examine Loch Earn and its 
environs. The lake itself is a pleasant part of a varied landscape, 
shown best, perhaps, from the road on which is Ardvoirlich. East- 
ward the view is particularly beautiful. Southward is Ben Voirlich, 
— the Great Mountain of the Lake, — " three thousand one hundred 
and eighty feet high," and, it is said, "visible from Edinburgh, and 
commanding a prospect over all central Scotland from sea to sea." 
West of it is Stuic-a-Chroin, a " broken, fantastic hill." A tract 
about half a mile wide along the shores of the lake is, or was, cov- 
ered by growths of oak, larch, ash, and birch trees. A road ex- 
tends around the lake, and enables tourists easily to explore its 
beauties. These, are well described by Dr. MacCulloch in his 
"Highlands and Western Islands of Scotland." He says that 
"Hmited as are the dimensions of Loch Earn, it is exceeded in 
beauty by few of our lakes, as far as it is possible for many beauties 
to exist in so small a space. ... Its style is that of a lake of far 
greater dimensions : the hills which bound it being lofty and bold 
and rugged, with a variety of character not found in many of even 
far greater magnitude and extent. It is a miniature and a model 
of scenery that might well occupy ten times the space. Yet the 
eye does not feel this. There is nothing trifling or small in the de- 
tails ; nothing to diminish its grandeur of style." It shows the ex- 
tremely diversified variety of aspects from careful cultivation or 
rural peacefulness, to dense forests or wild mountain glens and 
crests. It, indeed, rewards a visit. 

There is more than one way from the region of the Trosachs to 
Oban on the west coast, to which this tour leads, and near which is 
the original of the castle of Sir Duncan Campbell, to which Major 
Dalgetty went. Loch Katrine and Inversnaid Fort, in the old Mac- 
gregor country, are first passed ; and then Loch Lomond may be 
traversed, to its northern end, and the route by Glen Falloch, Tyn- 
drum, Glen Coe, and the shore of Loch Linnhe taken, or the di- 
rect road from Tyndrum to the Head of Loch Awe. Or, as the 
writer suggests, Loch Lomond may be crossed to Tarbet, and the 
road by Glen Croe, "Rest and be thankful," and Inverary may be 
taken. This road (extended through Glen Ary), and that direct from 
Tyndrum, lead to the head of Loch Awe, justly celebrated for the 
magnificence of its scenery. In the centre of this is picturesque 
Kilchurn Castle, surrounded by the waters of the lake, from which 
rise great hills, all overlooked by huge Ben Cruachan. From tliis 



'M LEGEND OF MONTROSE^ 309 

scenery, the road leads to Oban by the Pass of Awe, where is 
crossed the Bridge of Awe, locahty of Scott's short tale " The 
Highland Widow," that, together with the Loch and Pass of Awe, 
is described in chapter xlviii. 

Oban is the port of departure for the Sound of Mull, for Staffa, 
lona, and Skye, celebrated in "The Lord of the Isles " (described 
on pages 103-116). Near the road between the Pass of Awe and 
Oban, and three miles and a half from the latter, is Dunstaffnage 
Castle, original of Sir Duncan Campbell's " Ardenvohr," visited by 
Major Dalgetty after he left Loch Earn. The castle stands on a 
rocky promontory, that rises, perhaps, twenty feet above mean sea 
level, on the south side of the mouth of Loch .Etive. The best 
view of it is from the water. It may not appear to be reared upon 
a cliff as high as that on which Sir Walter has raised Ardenvohr, 
yet it is commanding and romantic. Nearly south of it, is a low, 
conical, wooded hill, that may be the identical height on which the 
Major advised that outworks should be erected, and respecting 
which he expressed so much sagacity, experience, and learning. 
The castle, quadrangular in form, is about three hundred feet in 
circuit. At each of three of its outer corners is a rounded tower ; 
the walls connecting these are thirty to seventy feet high, and ten feet 
thick. In the centre of the structure is a court-yard, of venerable 
and picturesque aspect. The masonry is, in places, — particularly in 
those external, — so rude, that it maybe mistaken, at a little distance, 
for the rock on which it is built. Dunstaffnage is a place of great 
interest, apart from associations with which Scott has invested 
it. Nature, history, and tradition, have rendered it pecuharly at- 
tractive. "It is situated," says a late writer, "on a promontory, 
almost insulated in that beautiful arm of the sea called Loch Etive. 
... On the west," it " fronts that beautiful and fertile island, fitly 
denominated Lismore, or Leasmore, — ' the Great garden' [page 
104], — beyond which towers the bleak and rocky Mull. The pros- 
pect terminates, towards the north, with the lofty mountains of 
Morvern ; while the view is enriched with a cluster of small islands 
scattered in various directions. Behind it lies that fortress, cele- 
brated in " " ancient chronicles under the name of Berigonium, and 
also the ruined priory of Ardchattan." The site of this Berigoni- 
um, the ancient Pictish capital, is upon a high bank, the northern 
shore of Loch Etive, opposite Dunstaffnage. Throughout the 
vicinity of the latter place, indeed, are associations with the earlj 

U 



2IO "^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE» 

history of the Scottish monarchy. Where the castle stands, lived 
— chiefly a thousand years ago — Dalriadan kings. Pennant, how- 
ever, makes the castle even much older, saying that it " is fabled to 
have been founded by Ewin, a Pictish monarch, contemporary with 
Julius Caesar." Grose makes a safer statement, followed by a con- 
cise account of that remarkable antique, "the Stone of Scone," 
once at Dunstaffnage. " The builder of this castle," says the ami- 
able captain, and the " time of its construction, are unknown : it is 
certainly of great antiquity, and was once the seat of the Pictish 
and Scottish Princes. Here for a long time was preserved the fa- 
mous stone, the Palladium of Scotland, brought, as the legend has 
it, from Spain. It was afterward removed by Kenneth II. to Scone, 
and is now in Westminster Abbey;" placed there by Edward I., 
and still, in the chapel of St. Edward the Confessor (the Apse), 
preserved beneath the Coronation chair of the British Sovereigns. 
The name, the " Stone of Destiny," seems appropriate to this 
strange object, — a flat, squared, dark block, above which have sat 
such a long succession of Scottish and English rulers during cere- 
monies of assumption of royal authority. At Dunstaffnage lived 
Lords of Lorn. From them Robert Bruce took it, and gave it to 
Sir Colin Campbell of Loch Awe, whose descendants continue to 
hold it. In it, during 1685, lived the Marquis of Argyll; and thus 
it is very properly represented held as it is in the " Legend." It 
was a garrisoned post even as recently as the "affairs" of 171 5 
and of 1745. 

Major Dalgetty took himself, and the action of the story in which 
he is so conspicuous, from this Ardenvohr to the Marquis of Ar- 
gyll's castle Inverary, to which he went in character of ambassador. 
Travellers, while on the way from Loch Lomond to Oban, are sup- 
posed to have visited the latter castle, or rather its successor. The 
Major found Inverary as different from its present condition as his 
times were different from those in which we live. He probably saw 
(he noble features of natural scenery that now impart so much dig- 
nity and beauty to the upper portion of Loch Fyne, where the cas- 
tle then was and where its successor now is, but modern culture 
and peacefulness he did not see ; for, in place of these, he found 
ominous demonstrations of stern Highland law and of civil war. 
He found, not the existing castle (for that was begun in 1745) ; but 
an ancient stronghold, situated near the water not far from its site, a 
more military and picturesque structure, of which scarcely a vestige 



"^ LEGEND OF MONTROSEr 211 

remains. He saw, not the handsome Policies, or pleasure-grounds, 
but before the castle a gibbet bearing recent victims, and behind it 
the lofty, steep, wooded hill, Duniquoich, crowned by a watch-tower 
that commanded a wide outlook and suggested the jealousy with 
which the Campbells guarded this their country, and enforced the 
spirit of their motto, and made strangers feel the force of its words 
— " It's a far cry to Lochow" — (a slogan that, however, rather be- 
longs to Kilchurn in Loch Awe — another of their strongholds). 
The Major soon had adequate realization of the power wielded b} 
the grim Marquis — Gillespie Grumach — to whom he was sent. 
He could hardly have appreciated, as we can now appreciate, the 
real greatness of that truly noble and wonderful family then repre- 
sented by this mighty Highland lord, — a family whose Saga is so 
tersely and so well told by a recent traveller, Lord Dufiferin, — a 
family whose history is centuries of argument against the popular 
sophistry that ability, honor, and glory cannot be inherited. But 
he, even in character of ambassador, could realize, and indeed was 
obliged to realize, that he was engaged in hazardous business. He 
had a peculiarly disagreeable reception by the Marquis, — this Gil- 
lespie Grumach, as less respectfully called, or MacCallum More, as 
ceremoniously styled, in the Highlands. The depth of affliction was 
after this reception soon reached by the Major, who found himself, 
as will be remembered, consigned to a subterranean dungeon, where 
he met a certain " Son of the Mist," doomed, like himself, to im- 
prisonment, and, not unlikely, to death. Innumerable readers of 
the story have learned how the Marquis, disguised, visited these 
two men in confinement; how he was surprised, while endeavoring 
to extract secrets from them, by loss of his own ; how the outraged 
ambassador and cool-headed soldier freed himself and the " Son of 
the Mist," and left the lord of the castle, bound hand and mouth, 
in the dungeon ; and finally, how the two, through great peril, es- 
caped the Marquis, his stronghold, his town, and his wide estates, 
and regions adjacent. 

Major Dalgetty's flight — a very exciting adventure — took the 
action of the story sometime after to the camp of Montrose, sit- 
uated northward from Inverary, in a remote portion of the High- 
lands. The action, shifting from this camp, then became historical 
at Inverlochy, where the plot of the story, here but little disclosed, 
was developed. 

Travellers, after visiting Oban and its connections (mentioned 
on page 209) can, in following the route of this tour, go directly 



213 "^ LEGEND OF MONTROSE:' 

thence to Bannavie, at the western end of the Caledonian Canal, 
almost beneath Ben Nevis, and near Iiiverlochy ; or, if returning 
from Skye, they can land at Arasaig Q^age io8), and thence traverse 
the country of Lochiel, thirty-eight miles, to Bannavie, and on this 
way see the place and the monument where Prince Charles Edward, 
August 19th, 1745, first set up his standard in Britain. 

About a mile from the excellent hotel at Bannavie are the castle 
and the battle-field of Inverlochy. On the latter, during Sunday, 
February 2, 1645, Montrose, "with the loss of three privates and 
one gentleman," defeated Argyll and his forces, whose loss was 
nearly fifteen hundred men, — almost one-half of their entire num- 
ber. Upon this field Major Dalgetty was, by his general, created 
knight, — an incident suggesting that Montrose here knighted John 
Hay of Lochloy, the latest instance of conferring this honor by a 
Scottish subject, it is said. Close to the field, and situated in a 
position not very commanding, above the bank of the rapid, rip- 
pling river Lochy, is the castle. It is a hollow square measuring 
120 feet each way, in its court-yard. At each outer angle is a low, 
round tower, formerly three stories high, but now shattered and 
dilapidated. The intermediate walls, perhaps twenty feet high, are 
better kept. The masonry is massive and excellent. The material 
is broken boulder and chip stone laid with strong cement, and with 
rather good effect, in courses, the large stones alternated betv^een 
seams of small stones. Many green, shady beech-trees grow near 
the castle. The old moat is now filled, and the court-yard is grass- 
grown ; indeed, the whole structure has, or lately had, a more pas- 
toral than military aspect, — a millennial style of change that, however 
morally edifying, is hardly as romantic in this case as in some others 
that travellers may remember. The castle is said to be of immense 
antiquity ; certainly, in history, it is famous. The country immedi- 
ately around it is mostly an uneven extent of peat and of hillocks. 
Beyond this, the view is bounded by imposing mountains, between 
which are noble valley vistas. 

One of these mountains, Ben Nevis, now considered the highest 
in Britain (4406 feet), certainly should, if possible, be ascended by 
travellers, and the readiest route of ascent is probably from Banna- 
vie. The mountain is a huge, bare mass, with a very rough and 
rocky top, that reminds one of Mount Washington at the American 
White Hills. On one side is a tremendous precipice, that has no 
real counterpart at the latter. The view, also, — one of unusual gran- 
deur, — is more varied and perhaps more wide than is the view from 




,.^^. 



/<" 







^ 



.^'VobHn 




•' -ril... (*(MXT1M I, 



" THt: pirate:' 213 

Washington. The ascent of Ben Nevis is not difficult to a respect 
able walker with a proper guide. 

The chapter before the last may contain enough antiquarian and 
typographical dissertation on a love story to render another here 
not absolutely necessary ; accordingly that of the Earl of Menteith 
and of Annot Lyle, the lovers in the novel (whom the writer 
should, perhaps have mentioned before), may be untold by him, 
and for a reason of some validity during the tour that is supposed 
to be sketched in this work, — their story is associated with scarcely 
any other places than those already described in the present chap- 
ter. They are said to have been married at Inverlochy Castle, after 
certain startling incidents had transpired, and a fatal result to these 
had been averted. They then visited Dunstafifnage, to which the 
bride proved heiress, and there, in merited bliss, they are supposed 
to have sometime dwelt. 

And thus " A Legend of Montrose," after leading us through ex- 
tended and noble scenery of the Highlands, locally ends near the 
western entrance to the Great Glen of Scotland that crosses the 
kingdom from sea to sea, and, by its lakes and watercourses, gives 
a pleasant and easy way to the eastern coast, to Inverness, the 
Highland Capital, and thence to the wild northern coasts and 
islands associated with the subject of the next work by Scott that 
will be sketched. 



XXV. 

"The Pirate." 
the great glen, and the northern coasts of scotland. 

Fonrteenth Ncrvel of the Series, written 1821 ; Published December, 1821 ; 
Author's age, 50 ; Time of action of the Story ^ about 1700. 

'T^HE route of travellers from Bannavie and the neighborhood of 
-■- Inverlochy and Ben Nevis is, on this tour, by a day's steam- 
ing through the Great Glen of Scotland and the Caledonian Canal 
that traverses it, to Inverness, the Highland capital. There is not, 
along this route, very much to be seen that is intimately associated 
with Scott's creations ; but yet, there are pleasing varieties of lake 



214 " THE PIRATED 

and river and hill and mountain views, and of ancient castles and 
modern engineering art. There is also that Scottish Giessbach, the 
Falls of Foyers, subjects of verse by Burns and of prose by innu- 
merable other writers. They are, indeed, very pretty, secluded. 
mountain-side cascades. 

In and around Inverness, at the eastern end of the canal, is an- 
other entertaining variety of objects. The town itself, neat and 
even handsome, is an emporium of Highland specialties, and thus 
is a nice place for shopping by tourists. At a couple of miles' dis- 
tance, in different directions, are two or three curious "vitrified 
forts." Fifteen miles nearly east is the traditional, or nominal, 
scene of the chief part of the tragedy "Macbeth," — Cawdor Cas- 
tle, a picturesque pile, perched above a mountain torrent, sur- 
rounded by large forest trees, and accessible only over a rattling 
drawbridge. To be sure King Duncan was not killed in it ; but it 
is a much more interesting place for a royal murder than could 
have been the rude structure in which he probably was killed, as it 
is one of the best preserved baronial strongholds in Scotland. 
There are several names in its vicinity suggesting Shakspeare's 
immortal work. The ruins of the once beautiful cathedral of Ross, 
destroyed by a barbarous iconoclast to yield materials for a fort, 
are a dozen miles, across Loch Beauly, north-east from Inverness. 
Five miles east from the town is Culloden Moor, field of the mem- 
orable battle that in 1745 for ever defeated the Jacobites. There 
is, also, a deal else to be seen in this region, as local guides can 
testify; but time and space here are not sufficient for mention of all. 

The route from Inverness is to Dingwall, a sort of outpost to 
Strathpeflfer, a hyperborean watering-place, and thence, beside Crom- 
arty Firth and over hills, to Tain. Recently, the extreme north 
of the mainland was reached by that almost mythical but pleasant 
vehicle, a mail-coach, that went to Wick and Thurso in Caithness. 
The former is a little port on the eastern coast. On the way thither 
from Tain, the route crossed Dornoch Firth at Meikle Ferry, a cool 
expanse of water. Afterwards, near Golspie, it led by Dunrobin 
Castle, — partly seen from the road, — a magnificent seat, very 
ancient in origin, of the Dukes of Sutherland. It rises grandly 
above a wide, circling sweep of sea-coast, of which it commands 
wonderful views, and along a portion of which travellers ride. Far- 
ther on is Helmsdale, and then Berriedale, with its two deep, pret- 
tily wooded, and watered ravines. Some time after sight of Dun- 



" THE PIRA TEr 2 1 5 

robin is lost, the road, still near the coast, enters Caithness by 
the Pass of Ord, or the Ord of Caithness, where it mounts 
thirteen hundred feet upon the bleak and bare, cold and lonely 
moorland sides of the Morven Hills, and commands a very exten- 
sive view over the North Sea, on which these hills there abut. 
Beyond the pass is continuous coast scenery, presenting, seaward, 
crags and waves, and inland, heathery or pasture ground, and 
mountain peaks, like the Paps of Caithness in the distance. Fur- 
ther north are wide extents of almost flat lands. 

Wick does not contain many " sights." The notable excursion 
from it is to the picturesque chflfs at Duncansby Head, the north- 
eastern extremity of the mainland of Scotland, and to " John 
O'Groat's House," — not a building, but a grass-grown site, partly 
mound, partly cellar, close to the shore of Pentland Firth. Near 
it is the odd little Houna Inn, the most northerly public house on 
the British continent. 

From Wick travellers may go by steamer directly to Lerwick on 
the Mainland of Shetland, from which visits are usually made to 
the scenery in which opens the action of this wild, magical story, 
" The Pirate," with its half Scandinavian strangeness. Only good 
sailors will probably make this voyage in comfort. During fine 
weather, a landing from the steamer may be effected at Sumburgh 
Head, the first natural scene described in the novel. It is nearly 
thirty miles southerly from Lerwick, and from it most of the locali- 
ties of the earlier portion of the story can be, perhaps, most readily 
reached. Travellers will, however, be likely to go, as Scott went, 
to Lerwick, — a port that he reached on the 3d of August, 18 14, 
during the voyage in the hght-house yacht (mentioned on page 102, 
and described on page 226), when he so much surpassed the explo- 
rations by Dr. Johnson in the celebrated Hebridean Tour. 

The port of Lerwick, Scott wrote in his journal, " is a most beau- 
tiful place, screened on all sides from the wind by hills of gentle 
elevation. The town, a fishing village, built irregularly upon a hill 
ascending from the shore, has a picturesque appearance." It is a 
prettier place now. Scott, while his friend Erskine (then sheriff) 
tried riotous whalemen, explored the antiquities and remarkables 
of the neighborhood, and thus, as in Liddesdale, continued " making 
himself," and conceiving charms that he has associated with many 
strange places in the remote islands of Shetland and of Orkney. 

The scenes of the novel in the former are on the chief island 



2i6 " THE pirate:' 

Mainland. They are south of Lerwick, and can be visited in regu- 
lar course by Mousa, Sumburgh and Fitful Heads, St. Ninian's, 
and thence back to Lerwick, whence they are accessible by ponies, 
or on foot and by boat ; or, in suitable weather, they may all, per- 
haps, be better reached by sail-boat. Travellers mav find that, during 
this exploring expedition and attempts at identification of the novel- 
ist's localities, a great deal must be done by individual imagina- 
tions ; and that, as Scott associated his strange story with wild 
and romantic regions that he saw during an adventurous excursion, 
so, also, now not a little of the pleasure of viewing them may be 
created by following his example, and by animating them with 
weird beings that haunt them and with fantasies that they inspire. 

" The Pirate " begins with a description of an old mansion, Jarls- 
hof, at Sumburgh Head, a high, bold promontory, the southern 
end of Mainland. It is, indeed, one of the most commanding imag- 
inable sites for a sea-side castle. The old mansion, " The Earl's 
House," represented as having been upon it, has disappeared ; but 
without it the site is sufficiently interesting. At Jarlshof appeared 
Mordaunt Mertoun, its occupant during several years, and son of 
Basil Mertoun, an old pirate. Young Mertoun was in love with 
Brenda Troil, the younger of those two delightful, world-known 
daughters of old Magnus Troil, Udaller of Zetland, who lived at 
Burgh-Westra, about twenty miles distant, across a country nearly 
enough impassable. This young Mertoun was a rather melancholy 
but good-looking person of the sort said to be " interesting " to sus- 
ceptible young ladies. Readers almost everywhere, and especially 
those who travel in Shetland, will with delight remember stately, 
black-haired, imaginative, high-minded Minna, and fair, blonde, 
graceful, cheerful, Scandinavian Brenda. 

Mordaunt Mertoun, when returning from one of his visits to the 
Troil family, was overtaken by an unusually violent storm, and was 
driven to seek and to take refuge from it at Harfra or Stourburgh, 
the residence of a sort of missionary agriculturist, Triptolemus 
Yellowley. There appeared Noma, of Fitful Head, one of Scott's 
most supernatural yet living creations, who, through superstition 
and adversity, had become a sorceress, half pagan, half crazed. 
The storm abated, — allayed by her it is represented, — and Mer- 
toun returned home. Neither the house of the Troils nor that of 
Yellowley can be identified : both were probably toward the south- 
ern end of the island, a portion well worth exploring. 



''THE pirate:' 217 

Soon after the adventure in the storm, a vessel was wrecked on 
Sumburgh Head, and a stranger, cast upon the beach, was saved 
by Mertoun, to appear afterwards in active hfe. Mertoun's ac- 
quaintance with Noma was continued, and increased, by another 
interview with her, that was held at the " Green Loch," rather 
indefinitely situated, according to the author, in "a very solitary 
spot, where — embosomed among steep, heathy hills, which sunk 
suddenly down on the verge of the water — lay one of those small 
fresh-water lakes which are common in the Zetland isles, whose 
outlets form the sources of the small brooks and rivulets by which 
the country is watered." It was small, — "not more than three- 
quarters of a mile in circuit." " The depth of the water gave the 
whole that cerulean tint of bluish green " whence it derived its name. 
It was, indeed, one of those remarkable scenes of " complete soli- 
tude," so strange and so fascinating in these far northern regions 
when the weather is fine, and so portentous during mists and 
storms ; a scene that any pedestrian in Shetland may discover. And 
at some such place was another of those scenes that should be 
recalled rather by reading or by remembrance of Sir Walter's writ- 
ing than by description here. 

Another and immediately succeeding scene, at Burgh- Westra, is 
also of the same sort. Noma then, in an impressive, an almost 
startling manner, appeared to Minna and Brenda in their bedroom 
at night. There, like some unearthly wit.h, she, in words that 
agitated and that awed, narrated the st'.ry of her hfe. It was 
another rendering of the old and often repeated experience of a 
woman's trust and ruin. Norna, banished by her father from his 
presence, had fled with her then faithful lover, her fidelity to whom 
resulted (unwittingly to her) in consequences fatal to her father. 
His death finally rendered her insane. She disappeared from hu- 
man society and wandered wildly, endeavoring continually to gain 
and exercise knowledge she had long sought, — first, when a girl, 
by exploring each barrow and cairn and valley and hill, and by 
learning the tales of each, and by striving to possess the powers of 
the Voluspae (the Sibyls) ; and then, later, by darker researches, 
and experiences that made her, in her own belief, " the powerful 
and the despairing Sovereign of the Seas and Winds." Through 
her story, as through the novel, we are impressed by a possibility, 
yet almost indefinable supernaturalness, of feeling, of incident and 
of scene, and by that peculiar magic picturesqueness we are apt to 



2i8 " THE pirate:' 

associate with Scandinavian, or with any hyperborean, regions and 
people, when the latter are not Esquimaux in style. Noma's agi- 
tating disclosures were fearfully monitory to the sisters, each of 
whom was already attracted, if not ensnared, by one assuming the 
position of lover. Indeed, Mertoun, and the young man rescued 
from shipwreck, — called Cleveland, — were becoming particularly 
influential in their affairs. After this scene in the bedroom, oc- 
curred another, in a more imposing, and now more recognizable, 
place, where Minna Troil met Cleveland, whose curious history 
can hardly be abridged here. This scene was " in one of the lone- 
liest recesses of the coast, where a deep indenture of the rocks 
gave the tide access to a " deep halier^ or subterraneous cave worn 
by the waves in calcareous rock, and constantly invaded by them. 
The spot may be found by an adventurous explorer at not a very 
great distance from the site of Burgh- Westra. It has been named 
the Helyer of Swartaster. There " a small spot of milk-white sand, 
that stretched beneath " a precipice, afforded " space for a dry, firm, 
and pleasant walk of about a hundred yards, terminated at one 
extremity by a dark stretch of bay," and at the other "by the lofty 
and almost unscalable " cliff, " the abode of hundreds of sea-fowl 
of different kinds, in the bottom of which the huge helyer, or 
sea-cave, itself yawned, as if for the purpose of swallowing up the 
advancing tide, which it seemed to receive into an abyss of im- 
measurable depth and extent. The entrance to this dismal cavern 
consisted not in a single arch, as usual, but was divided into two, 
by a huge pillar of natural rock, which, rising out of the sea, and 
extending to the top of the cavern, seemed to lend its support to 
the roof, and thus formed a double portal." " In this wild scene, 
lonely, and undisturbed but by the clang of the sea-fowl, Cleveland 
had already met with Minna Troil more than once ; for with her 
it was a favorite walk, as the objects which it presented agreed 
peculiarly with the love of the wild, the melancholy, and the won- 
derful." Two lovers, or any young lady and man, could hardly find 
a more impressive and bewitching scene for an interview ; nor will 
the sentimental traveller probably discover any more inspiring nat- 
ural objects amid which to imagine beings of romance. Certainly, 
it is an appropriate place for this meeting of Minna and her myste- 
rious companion, when she learned much of strange affairs that 
form conspicuous part of the action of this story, and that decisively 
affected her destinies. 



THE pirate:' 



219 



This action leads us next, to St. Ninian's Church, a celebrated 
shrine even after Romish times when it was founded, situated 
on St. Ronan's Isle, about ten miles north of Jarlshof. Mertoun had 
met Cleveland while he was beneath Minna's window serenading 
her, and had quarrelled with him. Towards this church, a ruin, she 
pursued them unsuccessfully, to prevent trouble. She, however, 
found Noma, and had a rather important interview with the father 
of Mertoun. A more interesting episode in the novel occurred after- 
wards, when Magnus Troil went, with his daughters, to Fitful 
Head, on which Noma's dwelling, an ancient tower, is represented 
to have stood. This Head, situated about half way between St. 
Ninian's and Sumburgh Head, is even loftier and bolder than that 
great promontory. Noma's tower is designed from the remarkable 
Pictish castle, Mousa, situated about thirteen miles north-east of 
Sumburgh on a small island, also called Mousa, lying close to 
Mainland. This castle is said to be " perhaps the most perfect 
Teutonic fortress now extant in Europe." Among the monuments 
of domestic or public life and manners in past ages, visited and de- 
scribed in this tour, this curious relic is certainly worth examina- 
tion. And as we have not the power of the Wizard of the North, 
and cannot transport it to Fitful Head, we must, very naturally, 
make it the object of a separate excursion, and then combine it, in 
imagination, with the site on which Scott has so effectively placed it 
to be an appropriate haunt of the sorceress Noma. This " Burgh " is 
on rather low ground near the sea, and, says an excellent authority, 
" is built of middle-sized schistose stones, well laid together with- 
out any cement. The round edifice attains the height of 42 feet, 
bulging out below and tapering off towards the top, where it is 
again cast out from its lesser diameter, so as to prevent its being 
scaled from without. The door-way is so low and narrow as only 
to admit one person at a time, who has to creep along a passage 
fifteen feet deep ere he attains the interior open area. He then 
perceives that the structure is hollow, consisting of two walls, each 
about five feet thick, with a passage or winding staircase between 
them of similar size, and enclosing an open court about twenty 
feet in diameter. Near the top of the building, and opposite the 
entrance^ three or four vertical rows of holes are seen, resembling 
the holes of a pigeon-house, and varying from eight to eighteen in 
number. These admit air and a feeble degree of light to the cham- 
bers or galleries within, which wound round the building, and to 



2 20 " THE pirate:'' 

which the passage from the entrance conducts, the roof of one 
chamber being the floor of that above it." 

This curious labyrinthine structure, once a secure refuge for the 
islanders from hostile attacks, — that were not infrequent, — is now 
an interesting study to the antiquary, as well as to the traveller in 
search of the picturesque, and is one of the most northerly ob- 
jects of ancient architectural work to be found in the British Isles. 
There is another large and almost entire tower of the same sort, on 
the island of Burra, in Orkney, accessible from Kirkwall. Others 
also exist, but that of Mousa may be imagined the lair of the sor- 
ceress, rising above the ragged, precipitous crags of Fitful Head, — 
a bold promontory, wild and mighty as the storms and the waves 
that often assail it. The Udaller, with his daughters, sought this 
castle of Noma and its mistress, in order to obtain from her a cure 
for Minna, who had grown ill and melancholy. Noma practised 
some of her remarkable incantations, and formed a curative spell 
that proved not unsuccessful upon the malady it was to remedy, — 
love-sickness. The Udaller, however, found the castle as inhospit- 
able as the stormy region around it, and was unable to make a very 
prolonged visit, owing to the peculiar opinions and excitable tem- 
perament of its mistress. He had, with the forethought of an ordi- 
nary mortal, brought a substantial lunch and a comfortable leathern 
flask of brandy, that were decently, and, to merely human percep- 
tion, necessarily laid on a table in the lower room of the tower. 
The Sibyl learned, with great indignation, of this invasion on pro- 
prieties that she had ordained for her establishment, and, turning 
*'with much haughtiness" to the Udaller, exclaimed, — "Have you 
so far forgot yourself as to bring earthly food into the house of the 
Reimkennar, and make preparations, in the dwelling of Power and 
of Despair, for refection and wassail and revelry ? " To this ques- 
tion she allowed no reply, but immediate departure from her castle ; 
out of the window of which were thrown the lunch and the brandy, 
and out of the door of which were turned the Udaller and his party. 

After this incident the affairs of the lovers in the story became 
even more romantic and interesting, and associated with other 
places than those already described. 

From these now lone and weird scenes in Shetland, wild, or 
awful in the picturesqueness of their bare, mighty forms of earth 
and rock, veiled by no forest-trees or coppice, and half glimmering 
in their ghostly sunlight, or obscured in the dark clouds of furious 



♦' THE PIRATE.'' 221 

storms, travellers go to the scarcely less impressive scenery of 
Orkney, and first to Kirkwall, whither the story next leads. 

Kirkwall is the chief town on Mainland of Orkney. It is sit- 
uated on low ground, at the head of a bay with a northerly opening. 
The country around it is bare and grassy, with expanding slopes, 
rising westward to no small height in the broad Wideford Hill, 
three miles back, — a hill worth ascending for the view it com- 
mands. The houses and streets of the town are small, but rather 
curious. The chief object of interest is, however, the Cathedral, 
the place to which the story next leads one. Mr. Billings, in his 
" Antiquities," very truly remarks : " Among all the architectural 
glories of the Middle Ages, there is scarcely any other that presents 
-so startling a type of the capacity of the Church of Rome to carry 
the symbols of its power, its wealth, and its high culture into dis- 
tant regions, as this Cathedral edifice, built in the twelfth century, 
in one of the most rerriote dependencies of a small and secluded 
European power. After having stood for nearly seven hundred 
years, it still remains pre-eminent, both in dignity and beauty, over 
all the architectural productions, which the progress of civilization 
and science has reared around it ; and even the traveller from the 
central districts of the mighty empire, to which the far isle of 
Pomona is now attached, looking with admiring wonder on it;* 
lofty tiers of strong and symmetrical arches, and its richly muUioned 
windows, admits that old St. Magnus is matched but by a very few 
of the ecclesiastical edifices of our great cities ; and those few are 
also ancient. Even as when it first reared its head among the fish- 
ermen's huts, it still frowns broad and dark over the surrounding 
houses of the old Burgh of Kirkwall," and, "though dedicated to 
another worship, still to the honor of those who dwell around it, 
and of their forefathers, stands entire, a living monument of those 
gentler arts which in the end were destined to be triumphant over 
. . . rude strength." Indeed, this venerable Cathedral, with that 
at Glasgow, both still given to holy uses, alone remain of the many 
once noble ecclesiastical edifices of Scotland, to show the power 
and piety of what conceited moderns term the " Dark Ages," and also, 
by contrast, to do continual honor to the moderation, the sense, 
and devotion of those who have lived near them, and to give elo- 
quent comment upon those whose pecuHar religious fervor burned, 
pillaged, and despoiled so much of grandeur and beauty solemnl)) 
dedicated to God's glory by their own forefathers. Kirkwall Cathe 



222 ''THE PIRATED 

dral is a long, simple, noble cruciform structure, measuring 226 
feet by 56 feet, or 90 at the transept, with a single tower crowned 
by a low pyramidal roof, rising totally 133 feet at the intersection 
of nave and transept. The material is chiefly red sandstone ; a 
little light, yellowish-brown sandstone being also used, in scattered 
pieces ; or, as on the north side of the west front, in alternate layers 
in the walls or arch mouldings, — an Italianish treatment. After 
long exposure, the general color has now become a dull, dark red 
(especially on the central tower), varied by ashy-gray shades, also 
dark. The edifice, founded in 1 1 38, and mostly built soon after, 
shows much of the round-arch " gothic " style. There is little 
ornament except about the door-ways, where are remains of once 
richly foliated capitals and mouldings. The buttresses are flat and 
Norman-like. The few pinnacles are of peculiar design. East and 
in the roof is pointed work, dating, it is said, from 1500 to 1550. 
Before 1671 an elegant spire crowned the tower. The whole Cathe- 
dral is now neat, and in good order to meet coming centuries, hav- 
ing been repaired recently by public and private liberality. St. 
Magnus, its patron saint, was killed at the altar of an older church. 
A few years afterward, his nephew Ronald, son of Erland Earl of 
Orkney, by vow avenged him, and began this memorial of him, as 
also of his faith. The interior impresses the visitor by the appear- 
ance of great length and height of the nave, compared with its 
width, for it is 217.^ feet long, 71 feet high, and only 16 feet wide. 
The architects truly made good use of their means to produce im- 
posing effect. The pillars and arches are massive and round, 
especially massive is the triforium. The windows are small (except 
the mullioned pointed eastern window). There is very little colored 
glass remaining. The nave and choir ceilings have a simple vault- 
ing with rather rude ribs, that the writer found of light brick-red 
color relieving a whitish ground. The transept roofs are simple 
wooden framed work, and higher than the vaultings. The choir is 
now supplied with modern pews, and has, or had, whitish washed 
walls, and pale reddish washed mouldings and capitals. There are 
not many monuments. The general effect of the ponderous nave, 
with its damp, stained walls, is more that of a crypt than of a high 
church ; but to one considering what and where it is, it is noble and 
solemn. According to the excellent and appropriate custom in the 
British Islands a burial-ground and lawn surround the Cathedral ; 
here commendable, if not as fair as in some other places more 
favored by nature and wealth. 



*' THE PIRATED 223 

On the English border, near Gilsland, the traveller may see, in 
the now ruined wall of Severus, remarkable evidence of the power 
of ancient Rome, at what was in her time almost the extremest 
limit of empire. But how truly is this venerable church " a start- 
ling type " of the far wider-reaching power of mediaeval Rome, and 
of devotion to that kingdom of faith and of peace, not alone of this 
world ! 

In this really wonderful edifice, Minna Troil had an interview 
with her lover, previous to a last farewell. The nave was his 
favorite walk and thinking place. From behind a massive pillar 
there, we are to imagine Noma stepping forth and addressing the 
two, and beneath the deep shadows we are to imagine the parting 
of the unfortunate girl from a strange being with whose person and 
fortunes her affections had become seriously engaged ; and then 
we may look, perhaps not successfully, for a secret panelled door, 
through which the mysterious Noma conducted him to a subterra- 
nean passage. By this she led him to some ruinous buildings not 
far distant, probably the remains of the Earl's or of the Bishop's 
palace, — objects of architectural and antiquarian interest second, 
at Kirkwall, only to the Cathedral. The former dates from 1607, 
and the latter from the thirteenth century. Both are quite pictu- 
resque : the former is in the Scotch castellated style, with large 
bays and hanging turrets, — all of sober gray stone. The latter is 
more "gothic" in its features. Its walls are built of broken slate, 
now dark gray, and have great brackets and dressings of red stone, 
now worn by exposure. 

Hence, Noma guiding and he following, both on horseback, had 
a sharp trot to the " Standing Stones of Stennis," distant about half 
of the fifteen miles to Stromness, whither the traveller's course 
may next be. These stones are the most ancient, and possibly 
curious, antiquities of Orkney. They are thought to be of pre- 
Scandinavian or of Celtic origin. They were erected over 900 
years ago, and, as pagan rehcs, are second in Great Britain 
only to the celebrated Stonehenge, near Sahsbury. There are, 
here, remains of two circles of stones. One is not far from either 
end of a causeway-like isthmus, parting the Lake of Stennis, and 
called the Bridge of Broisgar or Brogar. The other, westward, 
consists now of sixteen erect stones " from 3 to 14^ feet high, and 
seventeen fragments each less than three feet, and traces of an 
encompassing ditch 071 feet in circumference." The eastwarcf 



224 



''THE pirate: 



group has now three erect stones 17 or 18 feet high, flat, squared, 
peaked-topped, quite separated, and venerably gray, mossy, and 
mysterious. Two others He upon the ground. In one of the 
stones is a circular hole, through which the " Promise of Odin " 
(repeatedly mentioned in the story) was taken. At this retired, 
strange place, the lover and Minna parted for ever. Near here is 
the house of Turmiston, or, as the story has it, " the old mansion- 
house of Stennis," conspicuous among the story's closing scenes. 
Hence, " the pirate " is represented beholding a sea-fight (near 
Stennis), in which his vessel was destroyed, — an instance of ro- 
mancer's hcense, apparently founded on the fact that a noble view 
of Stromness and its surroundings is to be had a couple of miles 
further on towards it. Wideford Hill may be easily ascended before 
reaching Stennis, — the slopes are moderate, and covered by 
heather and grass, and the view is very extensive. A Picts'-house 
near the bay shore, back of a farm-house, maybe also easily visited. 
It is a fair specimen of those curious little stone-walled, under- 
ground, beaver-like houses, suggesting the probability that Picts 
lived snugly and were very small, impervious to dampness and defi- 
ant of rheumatism. 

Other places introduced to notice by the story are chiefly the 
remarkables of Hoy, a considerable island, quite worth visiting, and 
pleasantly accessible by sail-boat from Stromness, — a queer, ram- 
bhng Httle town, with a nice inn. The first of these remarkables is 
the Ward or Wart Hill of Hoy, one thousand five hundred and 
fifty-six feet high, one and a half miles from the eastern shore, 
and two and three-fourths from the northern. It is of domical 
form, bare and shrubless, steep and rough, scarred and torn by 
rock and earth slides, and puzzling enough in surface during the 
driving mists frequent here, in one of which the writer was caught 
alone on it. In clear weather, its summit commands a panoramic 
view that extends over nearly all Orkney and much of the northern 
part of Caithness. Two miles south-east, in a deep valley separat- 
ing this hill from others, is the " Dwarfie Stone," alluded to by 
Noma in her narration of her own history. It is a sandstone block, 
eighteen feet long, fourteen feet broad, and from two to six feet 
high above the ground. It is hollowed by art, and has two doors 
and rude berth-like excavations. Neither record nor tradition tells 
of its exact origin or use. It has been thought to have once been 
a heathen altar, afterwards transformed to a hermit's cell. The 



''THE pirate:' 325 

huge cliffs of the western coast of Hoy are, however, its most won- 
derful features. They rise from five hundred to nine hundred feet 
above sea level, often sheer and smooth as walls of masonry, op- 
posing their mighty fronts to the tremendous surges of the North 
Atlantic that ceaselessly roll unchecked from over its immense 
expanse. The best approach and view is, perhaps, by water, and 
from Stromness. The first view gained in this approach of them 
is of a lofty hill broken into very ragged profiles, towards the sea 
])recipitous, impending, or steeply sloping. One of these profiles 
resembles that of a human face with a prominent nose, and this, 
wliether in satire or questionable compliment, is termed the bust 
of Sir Walter Scott ! From an elevation on land about a mile and 
a half west of Stromness is said to be a better prospect of this 
image, or craggy precipice, called the Kame of Hoy. As one quite 
rounds the northern end of the island, the sublime range of cliffs 
opens upon the sight. Westward rolls the broad sea, generally 
most "deeply, darkly, beautifully blue," and eastward it dashes, 
white and foaming, and with steam-like spray, upon these tremen- 
dous rock-piles, that rise for miles, boldly confronting it. Their 
forms are wonderfully varied, and magnificently tinted and shaded 
by full sunlight. The strata are distinctly defined, like huge courses 
of masonry, and colored reddish brown or gray, diversified by 
russet-orange lichens, by soft, green mosses, or patches of verdant 
grass on slopes of the surfaces presented. Here and there, among 
these great walls, appear threatening rifts ; here and there, indeed, 
the chffs seem undermined ; and again, here and there, are cavern- 
ous recesses beneath them. The loftiest mass is a tower-hke pile, 
rather flat, a little advanced from the main frontage, and grandly 
bastioned and buttressed. Perhaps the most prominent mass, 
however, is one called the " Old Man of Hoy." It is an isolated 
rock, very high, squared, coursed by strata, slightly inclined, and, 
at its base, pierced by natural arches. It is three and three-fourths 
miles south-west of the Ward Hill, and may be seen even from the 
coast of Caithness. The views from the tops of these cliffs are, of 
course, wide and noble ; but, as with nearly all cliff scenery, the 
better views of the cliffs themselves are from below, — necessarily 
here, from the sea. In very few places, is any coast scenery, of 
this description, of such stupendous magnitude, so easily accessible. 
Travellers by the small steamer from Stromness to Thurso (on thp 
main land of Scotland) pass directly before the whole range, near 

IS 



226 ''THE PIRATE.'' — SCOTT'S VOYAGE, 1814. 

enough for seeing well, and respectfully far enough off for keeping 
safe. 

It may be remarked, that Gow or Smith, " the pirate " of this 
story, belonged to Stromness (as also did George Stewart, the 
" Torquil " of Lord Byron's " Island "). Details of the former's 
history may be found in Peterkin's '' Notes on Orkney." The nov- 
elist's " Introduction" (December, 1821) also narrates these. 

Scott, in his "Introduction" (1831), gives description of his 
yachting cruise among the northern islands previously alluded to 
in this chapter. Tourists who explore these islands, will, if they 
think of the great novelist, as they can hardly help doing, compare 
their own route with his by calling his to mind. 

On the 29th July, 18 14, Scott left Leith, by invitation, with a 
party of *' Commissioners for the Northern Light-House Service " 
(to whom Robert Stevenson was engineer). The party consisted 
of old friends. The yacht was an excellent one ; and the great man 
himself was not troubled by a malady incident frequently to inferior 
mortality when at sea. August 3d (as previously mentioned) they 
reached Lerwick in Shetland. Twice Scott visited the Loch "Cleik- 
him-in," and saw the Picts' Castle. On the 6th, by boat, he went 
around Capes Hammer, Kirkubus, and Ving, " Bard Head " and 
" Giant's Leg," to the Isle of Noss, and around the Noup of Noss 
or "Hang Chif," — the "highest rock we had yet seen," he wrote. 
It is about six hundred feet high. He saw, from below, the cele- 
brated Cradle of Noss, — that slender connection between two 
immense cliffs, formed by a couple of slight ropes and a basket, 
pictured in old school-geographies, but removed now. " I have," 
Scott wrote, " gleaned something of the peculiar superstitions of 
the Zetlanders, which are numerous and potent." On Sunday, the 
7th, he rode to Tingwall to church, and reached Scalloway, and 
saw its old castle. On the 8th he dined at the Town Hall with 
" Notables," and departed. On the 9th, in the yacht, he reached 
the Island of Mousa, and went ashore there and visited the castle, 
and then experienced an attempt to beat around Sumburgh Head 
(for dehghts of which experience the unnautical are referred to an 
attempt to do the like in that disagreeable, unquiet Roost of Sum- 
burgh). At ten o'clock on the loth he reached Fair Isle. On the 
nth, the Start of Sanda, first land of Orkney, was made. On 
the 1 2th and 13th he was at Kirkwall. On the 14th, at sea. Dun- 



" THE PIRA TE:' — nor TH-EASTERN SCO TLANB. 227 

cansby Head was passed, and on the i6th he arrived in Stromness 
Bay, and visited the Standing Stones, and, by long boat, Hoj 
Island (chiefly the Dwarfie Stone, — there being no record of his 
ascent of the Ward Hill or the Cliffs, so far as the writer knows). 
On the 17th, again under way, he saw the "Old Man" and other 
objects on the west coast of Hoy. There is no record, also, that he 
" sat for his portrait " on the Kame of Hoy. During the i8th, Cape 
Wrath was doubled. Thence he went to the Hebrides. 

From Stromness and Orkney the usual route is, as before inti- 
mated, by a small steamer to Thurso in Caithness, the most north- 
erly considerable town on the mainland of Great Britain. Thence, 
travellers may go by mail, or by posting, to Wick, and southward 
to Inverness by the way described at the beginning of this chapter. 
Or, travellers may visit the grand and remarkable cHff scenery of 
the north coast, particularly of Cape Wrath, and then go from 
Tongue to Dornoch Firth by mail-gig, and thence as before to 
Inverness. Thence travellers may advance southward by the 
" Highland" line of rail, mostly along the old mail road (after going 
around by once witch-haunted P'orres), and through Strath Spey, 
Glen Truim, Glen Garry, Blair Athol, Killiecrankie Pass, famous 
in Highland history, and Dunkeld, with its ruined cathedral and 
grand ducal grounds of Athol, to Perth, one hundred and forty-four 
miles. Thence the way may be by rail through Cupar Angus 
(branching by Blair Gowrie), to Arbroath, where travellers will 
again find scenes associated with Scott's creations. From Blair 
Gowrie travellers may most readily visit Craighall, an original of 
Tully-Veolan in Waverley (described on page 142), as also is its 
Glen the prototype of the hiding-place of the Baron of Bradwar- 
dine (page 145). From Glammis station, not much further onward, 
may also be visited the grand castle of that name, where Scott was 
first a guest during that tour of 1793, when he did so much towards 
" making himself," by becoming acquainted with Old World memo- 
rials. Indeed, the whole of this region is a mine of antiquarian and 
legendary riches. Or, travellers leaving Inverness, have another 
expeditious route by rail through Elgin, where may be seen the 
beautiful though shattered remains of its once magnificent cathe- 
dral, perhaps the richest and noblest of Scotland, and thence, also 
by rail, through interesting country near the east coast, to Aber- 
deen, — a neat, handsome, thriving town, celebrated for poHshed 



228 ''THE ANTIQUARY." 

granite, clipper ships, and " cauld kail." From this place a capital 
excursion may be made up the valley of the river Dee, by Banchory 
and Ballater and Balmoral, the Highland residence of Her Maj- 
esty, to Braemar, from which Ben Macdhui, long time reputed to 
be the highest mountain in Britain, may be ascended. From Aber- 
deen the route is by rail to Arbroath, already mentioned, near 
which are the chief scenes of Sir Walter's third novel, " The 
Antiquary." 



XXVI. 

"The Antiquary." 

Third Novel 0/ the Series, ixiritten 1815-16; Published early in May, 1816; 
Author's age, 45 ; Time of action, 1798. 

npHE scenery and objects associated with this novel are chiefly 
-■- at or near Arbroath. The opening scene is, however, at 
Eidinburgh, where, in the High Street, Mr. Lovel, the hero, and 
Mr. Jonathan Oldenbuck, or (popularly) Oldbuck, the Antiquary, 
first met, and whence they together journeyed to the Hawes Inn, 
Queensferry. Mr. Lovel soon became a friend of Mr. Oldbuck, and 
also his guest at his seat, Monkbarns, where, among other attrac- 
tions, was the very valuable and curious museum of the celebrated 
and learned savant. Near that place was the famous Roman Camp, 
the Praetorium of the Kaim of Kinprunes, so interestingly described 
by the Antiquary to Mr. Lovel and that intrusive but very enter- 
taining vagabond, Edie Ochiltree. The writer cannot, in American 
dialect, "locate" this object of antiquity. It does not even appear 
to be shown by Major-General Roy in his ponderous folio on the 
" Mihtary Antiquities of the Romans in Britain." Mr. Oldbuck's 
exposition of its topography and characteristics may, however, be 
considered sufficiently exhaustive and graphic, and is too exquisite 
to be damaged by abridgment. 

Lovel, engaged in some affairs not immediately comprehensible 
to every one, was spending time at Fairport, an alias of Arbroath, 



, ''THE antiquary:' 229 

the town to which travellers are supposed to have been conducted. 
It is a neat, thriving place, chiefly notable and visitable because it 
contains the remains of St. Thomas's Abbey, the St. Ruth's Abbey 
of this novel. Previous to any especial notice of it, however, 
the story again conducts us to Monkbarns. The knowledge of the 
writer does not afford means of identification of this residence ; 
accordingly he cannot, in reference to it, become a means of 
prompting to invasion of any specified private property. The only 
clew to the place seems to be, that Lovel went to it, as the story 
informs, " by a footpath, leading over a heathy hill and through two 
or three meadows ; " and, furthermore, that the house stood upon 
the side of a hill, commanding a fine prospect of "the bay and 
shipping ; " and that it was an " irregular, old-fashioned building " 
of no great beauty, "surrounded by tall, clipped hedges of yew and 
holly, some of which still exhibited the skill of the topiarian artist, 
and presented curious arm-chairs, towers, and the figures of Saint 
George and the dragon." There is a supposition extant, that the 
house of Mr. Constable, formerly of Dundee, and prototype of 
the "Antiquary," was its original. However, on the 17th of July 
(1798), Lovel once more went to Monkbarns, and there found, as 
guest, " Sir Arthur Wardour, a baronet of ancient descent, and of 
a large but embarrassed fortune," and also of Jacobitical politics and 
proud spirit. A dinner-party, then and there holden, unhappily ter- 
minated in a quarrel' between Sir Arthur and his host, so violent 
that the former — the latter's almost only social associate — de- 
parted irate, taking with him his daughter. Miss Isabel Wardour, 
a reserved but pretty and interesting young lady. It was discov- 
ered, after awhile, that the two had gone toward their home — 
Knockwinnock Castle (another unidentifiable place) — by " the 
sands," at the base of the cliffs along the sea-shore, and that the 
state of the tide then existing rendered this route very dangerous. 
Thus we are led to an exciting scene at Red Head, situated about 
six miles east of Arbroath. This head " is the promontorial termi- 
nation of the Sidlaw spurs, and falls almost sheer to the sea in pic- 
turesque porphyritic precipices of two hundred and seventy feet." 
Other cliffs near by may also furnish scenery similar to that referred 
to, that witnessed the rescue of Miss Wardour and her father from 
drowning beneath the tide as it overwhelmed their pathway below 
almost entirely insurmountable rocks. Along the coast, there is not 
only much cliff" scenery of this sort, but also other that has become 



230 " THE ANTIQUARY.'' 

quite curious, where caves, worn by the sea, penetrate inland a long 
distance under the fields. In one, a cannibal is said to have lived 
in the fourteenth century ! Another cave, nearer Arbroath, called 
the Geylet Pot, is described by Pennant as "the most aston- 
ishing of all, that almost realizes in romantic form a fable in ' the 
Persian Tales.' The traveller may make a considerable subter- 
raneous voyage, with a picturesque survey of lofty rocks above and 
on every side ; he may be rowed in this solemn scene, till he finds 
himself suddenly restored to the sight of the heavens ; he finds 
himself in a circular chasm, open to the day, with a narrow bottom 
and extensive top, widening at the margin to two hundred feet in 
diameter. On gaining the summit, a most unexpected prospect 
appears : he finds himself at a distance from the sea, amidst corn- 
fields ; enjoys a fine view of the country, and a gentleman's seat at a 
small distance from the place out of which he emerged." Thus one 
may continue discovering varieties of the wonderful coast scenery 
of Scotland, unsurpassed by any, readily accessible, of equal length. 
Naturally enough, Lovel was engaged in the rescue of the War- 
dours. From it, he retired to Monkbarns, where he slept in a certain 
haunted chamber. Naturally and properly enough also, he found 
himself decidedly in love with Miss Isabel, and also experienced, 
in that strange lodging-place, some peculiar dreams. The next 
day, with Mr. Oldbuck, he walked among the fishers' huts by the 
shore, — huts quite similar to many now on the coast described, 
and that might introduce one to episodes of Hfe as touching as 
those of the Mucklebackets so pathetically described by Scott. 
Other incidents of the story ensued, and then a picnic party of the 
gentry of the novel, given at St. Ruth's Priory, described, as before 
remarked, from the Abbey at Arbroath. 

This once magnificent and sacred structure was founded in 11 78, 
and dedicated to St. Thomas k Becket by King William the Lion, 
who was buried in its precincts in 12 14. The monks were Tyron- 
ensians first from Kelso. It became perhaps the most richly en- 
dowed ecclesiastical institution in Scotland, except Holyrood. In 
1530, for instance, with but about twenty-five monks, its wealth 
permitted its hospitalities — extended to all, high or low or rich or 
poor, — to supply " 800 wethers, 180 oxen, 11 barrels of salmon, 
1200 dried codfish, 82 chalders of malt, 30 of wheat, 40 of meal," be- 
sides other produce of its extensive lands and tenantries. Cardinal 
Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, — the Scottish Wolsey, — was 



" THE AN TI Q UAR F." 23 j 

one of its latest Abbots. Great and especial privileges were con- 
ceded to it and to the town. It was within an area of 11 50 b}! 
706 feet, enclosed by a lofty wall, battlemented, and turreted, a 
single, stern, square tower of which, 70 feet high, remains, the 
only entire portion of the abbey. The material used was a dark- 
red stone, unfortunately very friable. The church, of course cru- 
ciform, was 270 by 132 feet. The central part of the nave was 35 
feet wide, the aisles each 16^ feet, and the total width 68 feet. The 
nave was 148 feet long, and the choir and chancel 76^ feet. The 
transept had an east aisle i6|- feet wide, and a main aisle, making a 
total width of 45^ feet. The side walls were 67 feet high. There 
were two western towers, and a lofty central tower or spire. 

Devastated at the Reformation, it was allowed to fall into decay. 
A century ago a considerable part was standing, but much of this 
fell at about that period. Billings writes that " there are few build- 
ings in which the Norman and the early English are so closeh 
blended, and the transition so gentle." But the wear of time and 
neglect and fanaticism have sadly dilapidated it. " The mouldings 
and tracery." (writes the same author) " are thus wofully obliter- 
ated ; and the facings are so much decayed, as to leave the original 
surface distinguishable only here and there." Latterly, the Ex- 
chequer has interposed ; and some repairs, very commendable if not 
picturesque, have been made to arrest the rapid decay. Remaining 
now, are a tower of the enclosure, 70 feet high ; perhaps one-half 
of the west front, including the main entrance, — a grand round- 
arch transition door-way, — and the lower parts of two square corner 
towers ; a lesser portion of the chancel end ; considerable of the 
chapter-house or vestry, and of the south wall and gable of the 
south transept, with some once beautiful transition work. The 
bases of the interior pillars alone remain. 

And in such condition we find this abbey, another holy and noble 
temple of Scotland allowed to perish, to be succeeded only by in- 
sufficient and comparatively contemptible religious "accommoda- 
tions." 

The romantic or entertaining adventures and the picturesque 
scenes represented by the Great Magician within these ruins, or 
near them, while uncommonly pleasing, show that his exuberant 
imagination created a great deal besides incident and character. 
At Arbroath, as at the Holy Island, we must now suppose that 
subterranean passages described by him, though once not only pos- 



233 ''THE antiquary:' 

sible but probable, are filled or destroyed. Memory or reading, 
however, during the hours of a pleasant twilight or moonhght at 
this " St. Ruth's," and reanimation of its recesses with scenes of 
" The Antiquary," will enable one to spend such time pleasantly 
and well, and to find a wonderful addition to the interest of the 
novel, while recalling the incidents of the picnic ; of the duel that 
was subsequent ; of search at midnight for buried treasure (when 
the deluded baronet was the dupe of a German adventurer — pro- 
totype of more modern " mining " swindlers — who endeavored to 
deceive him concerning imaginary or fictitious wealth that could 
be dug here) ; and of the supervision of this search by secreted 
observers, and of the startling manner in which they haunted the 
ruin and the treasure-seekers ; and, finally, of the impressive spec- 
tacle of a stealthy yet formal funeral by torchlight, — incidents all 
seemingly real, as are so many others described by Scott. 

''The Antiquary" is associated with other places, but of minor 
importance and imaginary, although with some resemblance to 
recognizable extant objects. One will, however, probably be made 
as well acquainted as possible with its locahties, during an after- 
noon ramble along the sea-shore near Arbroath, and during a 
visit later in the day to the venerable remains of the Abbey of St. 
Thomas. 

The novel introduces one historical incident with a graphic and 
interesting description of an event that occurred during Scott's 
earlier years, and that, in some form, more than once engrossed his 
attention, with more cause than we trust it will ever again engross 
the thoughts of his countrymen. This incident is an alarm of a 
French invasion, — a bugbear, or a possibility, or a probability, 
more conceivable by a Briton than by an American or other alien 
to British land (if one is to judge by comparatively recent demon- 
strations). Whatever may have been w.tnessed or thought neces- 
sary at later dates, in " '98," time of the story, Jonathan Oldbuck 
valorously armed himself for the defence of home, as ardently 
patriotic, if not as advisedly appointed, as a member of the volun- 
teer corps would be now. And the worthy man went forth in his 
panoply to find that the alarm was — as may it always prove — 
baseless. 

The prototype of Mr. Oldbuck, the Antiquary, was, as already 
mentioned, Mr. George Constable, with whom Scott first became 
acquainted in 1777, at Prestonpans. Scott recorded in his "Auto- 



" THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH." 233 

biography," that he " was an old friend of my father's, educated to 
the law, but retired upon his independent property, and generally 
residing near Dundee. He had many of those peculiarities of tem- 
per which long afterwards I tried to develop in the character of 
Jonathan Oldbuck. It is very odd, that, though I am unconscious 
of any thing in which I strictly copied the manners of my old friend, 
the resemblance was nevertheless detected by George Chalmers, 
Esq., solicitor, London, an old friend both of my father and Mr. 
Constable, and who afi&rmed to my late friend Lord Kinedder, that 
I must needs be the author of ' The Antiquary,' since he recognized 
the portrait of George Constable. But my friend George was not 
so decided an enemy to womankind as his representative Monk- 
barns," &c. 

The prototype of Edie Ochiltree, that example of a peculiar style 
of old Scottish beggars, a " blue-bonnet," and one of the remarkably 
live human beings created by the Great Magician, has been thought 
to have been one Andrew Gemmels, or Gemble, once a rude old 
soldier and afterwards a beggar, who resembled Edie. His haunts 
were mostly in southern Scotland. 

From Arbroath the route of this tour leads to Edinburgh. 
Travellers may go thither by rail through Perth, Stirling, and Lin- 
lithgow, making from Perth an excursion to Falkland and Loch 
Leven, scenes of important incidents in two of the Waverley novels 
(and of some Scottish history, also, readers may suggest). This 
route will be sketched in the next two chapters. 



XXVIT. 
"The Fair Maid of Perth." 

Twenty-sixth Novel of the Series; Written 1828; Published Autumn, 1828; AtdhoT't 
Age, 57 ; Time of Action, 1402. 

A LMOST every one now approaches Perth by rail, and thus 
•^^^ hardly, at first, reaHzes the beauty of its position. Quite dif- 
ferently first came Scott, as he informs us in the opening chapter 
of this story. " I was not above fifteen years old," he wrote, when 
occurred " the first excursion which 1 was permitted to make on a 



234 " ^^^ ^^^^ MAID OF PERTH." 

pony of my own ; " the route of which led over a now disused road 
crossing the Ochils at a spot called the Wicks of Baiglie, south- 
ward from Perth. This, he added with patriotic devotion, "is 
one of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps 
the world, can aftbrd," from which the traveller beholds " stretching 
beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and 
lordly stream ; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows or 
Inches, its steeples and its towers ; the hills of Moncreiff and Kin- 
noul faintly rising into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with 
woods ; the rich margin of the river, studded with elegant man- 
sions ; and the distant view of the huge Grampian Mountains, the 
northern screen of this exquisite landscape." " I recollect," he con- 
tinues, "puUing up the reins without meaning to do so, and gazing 
on the scene before me as if I had been afraid it would shift hke 
those in a theatre." " The recollection of that inimitable landscape 
has possessed the strongest influence over my mind, and retained 
its place as a memorable thing when much that was influential on 
my own fortunes has fled from my recollection. It is, therefore, 
natural, that, whilst deliberating on what might be brought forward 
for the amusement of the pubhc, I should pitch upon some narra- 
tive connected with the splendid scenery which made so much im- 
pression on my youthful imagination." 

This city, Perth, is one of the most ancient and celebrated in all 
Scotland. It is indeed said to have been built and fortified as 
early as the time of the Roman Emperor Agricola, in the year 8i, 
when the eagles of his wonderfully aggressive power flew thus far, 
and, with his legions, came, it is narrated, over almost the very 
pass that Scott has described. Its charms affected the old Romans 
much as they have moderns, as Scott has told us in his own " anon- 
ymous " lines : — 

" ' Behold the Tiber ! ' the vain Roman cried, 
Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side ; 
But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay, 
And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay ? " 

From an indefinite mediaeval period, until the latter part of tht 
fifteenth century, Perth was capital of Scotland. It had a Parlia- 
ment House and a Castle, and, prior to the Reformation, no less 
than four monasteries, two nunneries, and other religious establish- 
ments. Continually a scene of historic events, it is well known as 
that of some of the earhest attacks on the ancient church by iht 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH: 



23h 



reformer Knox, and, later, of the strange Gowrie conspiracy. Fur- 
thermore, in early times it was a place of great trade, particularly 
with the Netherlands ; and so prosperous was it, that an English 
writer (Neckham), over six centuries ago, noticed the fact in a 
distich : — 

"Transis, ample Tai, per rura, per oppida, per Perth ; 
Regnum sustentant illius urbis opes." 

Stranger than any other incident, is perhaps that, very illustrative 
of wild mediaeval periods in the Highlands, chosen by Scott for a 
prominent feature in the plot of his story of Perth, — the combat 
of the two Highland clans, concerning whose identity various 
opinions have existed. 

Travellers, once estabhshed in the old city, are supposed to 
sally forth for observation. Leaving, possibly, the " George 
Hotel," that is or was the most respectable and the dearest (having 
been honored by a night's patronage of the Royal family), they may 
soon learn, that, although one of the prettiest towns of North 
Britain, Perth has lost most of its relics of former renown. From 
time to time, a series of municipal dignitaries appear to have exer- 
cised baleful influences on them. Gowrie House, scene of the plot 
that implicated King James VI. and the two brothers Ruthven in 
1600, has been supplanted by a jail ; perhaps the magistrates deem- 
ing such change retributively indicative of the desert of one of these 
illustrious parties. Some of the baronial and ecclesiastical struct- 
ures have disappeared, to make room for certain " Greek " county 
buildings. The eminent church of St. John, scene of Popish 
pomps, early Knox exhortations, consequent iconoclastic ravages, 
and of notable incidents in Scott's story, has been partitioned, by 
a sort of Scottish Cerberean style, into three churches at once. 
Continued investigations lead to a statue of Sir Walter Scott, that, 
says the local guide-book, " is scarcely to be regarded as a public 
testimonial to the memory of the novelist: it was accidentally 
acquired by the magistrates, at the sale of a local sculptor's stock." 
These magistrates, in expiation, did thus, for once, sacrificially 
labor to retain for their city some token, some relic, suggesting the 
attention lavished upon it by the most glorious genius their country 
has produced. The statue, of brown stone, is a standing figure, 
holding a manuscript ; while, at the feet, is a dog looking up. The 
base is square, and Scotch shrewdness (or other quality) has, if the 
writer remembers correctly, placed no inscription thereon. 



236 " THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 

However, one cannot naturally expect to find, outside of books^ 
much artificial illustration, or even suggestion, of domestic life of 
the fifteenth century, in a stirring place ; consequently one should 
not be disappointed at the little visible evidence of the streets and 
buildings that knew the " Fair Maid of Perth." Nor, perhaps, 
when investigating the scenes of the opening of the story, should 
one be surprised on reaching a corner of the town, not far from the 
bridge over the Tay, and on entering Curfew Row, where the hero- 
ine dwelt. Yet it is necessary to be warmed by a degree of noble 
enthusiasm, it must be confessed, to properly experience a view of 
almost the only trace of her times that remains there, and senti- 
mental explorers may find that triumph of imagination over vulgar 
senses is required there, as it is more than once in life, and even in 
historic research. They may realize that Katie Glover, the " Fair 
Maid," was daughter of Simon Glover, and that he is said to have 
lived in this Curfew Row, a glover ; and that in it also, apparently, 
during the intervening generations, have lived and labored inces- 
santly, dressers of skins. For, in it, smells that affected Coleridge 
at Cologne superabound with suggestions of old Simon's trade. 
The " Row" is a narrow, crooked, dingy Httle street. Its architec- 
tural antiquities are few, — the vestiges of a castle (to which the 
legend " Castle Gable " is affixed) ; and a niche in an ancient 
chapel, where, until recently, a curfew-bell hung. Not far distant, 
in Watergate and Skinnergate, are or were a few very old houses, 
that, with the prevailing aspects of certain vennels, may be adequate 
examples of the ancient civic style, plain and strong, hardly cheer- 
ful, yet perhaps fitted for the rude times in which they originated. 

The story of the fortunes of Katie Glover begins on the eve of 
St. Valentine, when the Fair Maid, attended by her father, went 
from home to evening service at the Blackfriars' Monastery. It 
was not distant, but even its site is now uncertain. Behind the 
two, walked a "" tall, handsome young man," plainly dressed, named 
Conachar, a Highland apprentice to old Simon, and a partially 
undeclared admirer of his daughter. On the way, they were ac- 
costed by a disguised gallant, whose attentions were so little accept- 
able, and so returned, that he parted with threats that they should 
rue slighting him. Returning from the church, they were followed 
home by another disguised man, who, however, proved of a different 
sort, — Harry Gow, an uncommonly stout smith, a great favorite of 
the father, and lover of Katie. He had the pleasure of taking 



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH. 



23: 



supper with them, and, afterwards, the mild stimulus of an alterca- 
tion with Conachar, his rival ; but the fair cause of it interposing 
with counsels of peace, a truce ensued. Later yet, old Glover, the 
more avowed admirer of Gow, after various confidential discourse, 
assured him, that, if he would come under Katie's window at next 
break of day, it should be contrived that she should look out upon 
him first, and thus he should become her Valentine for the remain- 
der of the year, "which," continued old Glover, "if thou canst not 
use to thine own advantage, I shall be led to think that, for all thou 
be'st covered with the lion's hide. Nature has left on thee the long 
ears of the ass." Acting on this rather palpable hint, and coming 
to the house again at the designated time, Harry Gow discovered 
a party of men breaking into an upper window. And here we may 
vividly imagine the vicissitudes to which a very pretty girl was Hable 
at the time of the tale. Her watchful lover, instead of beholding 
her picturesque advent as his beloved Valentine, was obliged to 
rush to defend her from violence, and from — one can't say what. 
Of course a little street-riot at once ensued, neighbors assembled 
confusedly, and, after some skirmishing, the assailants were driven 
away, — thanks to the lover for his presence. 

There was one incident attendant on the riot, and a very myste- 
rious and awkward incident, — a hand, discovered cloven from one 
of the chief assailants, — a strong but delicate hand, that of a cour- 
tier; suggesting, as some one sagaciously said, "there be hard laws 
against mutilation," when a burgess mutilates a noble, — laws to 
be felt when citizens, although on the defensive, should settle with 
the then unknown proprietor of this severed member. But quiet 
was, for the time, restored ; and Katie retired, after she had, in a 
dehghtful manner, thanked her defender. 

He remained for the rest of the night in a lower room of her house, 
v/here he apparently was soon asleep in a chair. Katie, meanwhile, 
grateful for his service, and determined that he should not fail be- 
coming her true Valentine, with charming propriety crept into this 
room, — quietly, in order not to disturb his necessary repose, — 
and then she kissed what she supposed his unconscious lips. But, 
though the kiss was light as a falling rose-leaf, the lover's sleep 
was lighter. Electrically aroused, he seized her, and attempted 
to return the salute ; but she struggled, and escaped him, only to 
meet her father, an ecstatic beholder of the incident. More love 
was made than lost by the affair, it is good to know. 



23S " THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 

Soon afterwards, Conachar disappeared, Miss Katie declined cer- 
tain decorous overtures from the Gow, and publicly occurred a 
Council of the citizens about the street affray. Some high personage 
was to be settled with for the detached hand, and regulations were 
plainly needed to prevent adventurous gallants from intruding un- 
seasonably into young women's chambers. The citizens selected 
as their advocate, before any implicated superior beings, the Prov- 
ost of Perth, Sir Patrick Charteris, whose seat was Kinfauns 
Castle, a few miles distant eastward, whither we are led, as were 
delegates appointed to confer with him, to find one of the pleasant- 
est places in the vicinity of the city. The scenery remains much 
as it was then ; but the old castle must be imagined from others 
contemporaneous, that now existing being an elegant modern struc- 
ture, seat of Earl Grey. Sir Patrick received the delegates in 
a friendly manner ; and with them went to town, where the im- 
portant subjects about which they were engaged introduce us to 
important persons, — King Robert III. and his Council. During 
an interview between these various parties, the famous Earl Douglas 
produced the detached hand, taken from the city cross, and an 
uncommonly animated scene ensued, respecting the member, and 
affairs pertaining or not to it. 

The King, gentle but feeble, was sadly tried by his eldest son, 
Duke of Rothsay, a spirited, talented, young Prince, but wild to the 
extreme of license. The misfortune of a political marriage had 
rather increased his irregularities. The Earl of March's daughter, 
once betrothed to him, had been set aside, and, by influence of the 
tremendous Archibald, Earl of Douglas, he had been married to the 
latter's daughter, " Marjory Douglas, a woman whom Rothsay 
could not love. No apology was offered to the Earl of March," 
and thus a feud arose between these powerful nobles. The King's 
brother, the Duke of Albany, an aged, dignified, cool, crafty man, 
was very high in power in the kingdom, and acted an important 
part in its affairs and in several affecting this story. 

An incident, that had just transpired, intensified the excitements 
of this Council, and illustrated the relations of some of its members. 
The Duke of Rothsay, approaching, had met, outside the doors, a 
glee-maiden from Southern Europe, whom he induced to sing a 
ballad, and whom he rewarded with money and a kiss. This con- 
duct was seen by both Earl March and Earl Douglas, his father-in- 
law, a man of no mild emotion, who took the act, and subsequent 



" THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.'' 239 

manner of the Duke to him, as deep insult. Rothsay secured 
Harry Gow, who happened near, for a protector of the maiden 
(who had, unwittingly, incurred the bitter displeasure of Douglas), 
and then, with the Lords, entered the Council, while the smith 
introduced his charge to his own home. 

The chief business with the Council was, however, respecting 
the feuds of the Highland clans, Chattan and Ouhele, each, the King 
said, a great confederacy of tribes banded together to support their 
own separate league, and by whom the whole country was dis- 
tracted. Discussion was held respecting settlement of their 
quarrels, in trial by combat, — a trial that, eventually, is very con- 
spicuous in the story, and shows a very mediaeval mode of righting 
wrong. 

After this meeting of the Council, the King, more in private, elic- 
ited from his son information about the detached hand. It belonged 
to Sir John Ramorny, a chief assistant of Rothsay in his adven- 
tures, and an actor in a dark tragedy that closed them. 

The next chapter of the story shows Katie Glover confessing to 
a Carthusian monk, Father Clement, on the hill of Kinnoul, " at the 
foot of a rock which commanded the view in every direction," over 
"one of the most beautiful prospects in Scotland," and one that the 
traveller should see. This hill, two or three miles eastward from 
Perth, has a frontage of massive, craggy cliffs, rising six hundred 
feet in height. The most westerly of the Sidlaw range, it presents 
precipices consisting, curiously, of grayish combed and contorted 
lava, and commands wide views up and down the broad valley of 
the Tay and over the hills of Kinross. The good monk Clement, it 
appears, was reflective and reformative, and obliged to avoid exist- 
ing powers, who suspected him of heresy. Katie advised that 
Highland Conachar should find him a retreat, for Conachar's father 
was "a man of consequence among those hill-men." But this 
and other considerations were rather suddenly interrupted by an 
episode very illustrative of the times. Near as the two were to the 
Royal Burgh, they were surprised by a party of Highlanders, led 
by this very Conachar, then " Ian Eachin Mac Ian, son to the chief 
of the clan Ouhele." The " Hill-men," instead, however, of making 
the two prisoners, according to their practice, promised protection 
to the monk, and, also differing from their wont, allowed the Fair 
JMaid to quietly return home. 

Disturbance and intrigue continued in the town, as it always did 



240 •' THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 

in "the good old days." One Bonthron, a follower of Rainorny, 
was instigated to murder Harry Gow, whose interference with the 
raid on Katie Glover's chamber had rendered him very obnoxious 
to more than one of " noble " position. Bonthron, attempting the 
act, by mistake killed a boasting bonnet-maker, Ohver Proudfute, 
who was returning home late one night, rashly disguised in some 
of Harry's armor. Next morning, discovery of Oliver's dead body 
lying in the street raised great uproar among the citizens, and no 
little distress in Katie's heart until she found her lover safely at 
home, the right man in the right place. The Town Council met, 
and trial for discovery of the murderer was appointed, according to 
a custom of the times. Ramorny's followers were suspected of 
the crime, proof of which was to be obtained through trial by 
"bier-right," that is, by the bleeding or not of the dead man's 
corpse when touched by his murderer. And in St. John's Church, 
by royal appointment, this trial occurred. This church is situated 
near the centre of the old town, of which it is the chief mediaeval 
relic. It is cruciform, erected at different periods, partly modern, 207 
feet long, "and surmounted by a grand old square tower 155 feet 
high," including a spire. The material is a dingy red sandstone, show- 
ing various degrees of age and wear. The style is of course pointed 
Gothic, — of the peculiar heavy Scotch sort, yet relieved by some 
good tracery in the windows. "When," says Mr. Morrison, "the 
three churches into which " the interior " is now cut down were in 
one, the ceilings high and decorated, the aisles enriched by the 
offerings of the devotees to the various altars which were reared 
around it, and the arches free from the galleries which now deform 
all these Gothic buildings, it must have formed a splendid theatre 
for such a spectacle as that of the trial by bier-right." 

Bonthron's escape had been planned by his abettors, but a cer- 
tain, confederate apothecary, distinguished by the name Henbane 
Dwining, caused the dead body to bleed as Bonthron approached 
it. The murder would out ; and its perpetrator, refusing this ordeal 
by touch, demanded another then used, — that by combat. The 
demand was granted. Stout Harry Gow appeared as champion of 
Proudfute's widow ; and in the Skinners' Yards, near Curfew Row, 
occurred his consequent conflict with Bonthron. " Till lately, 
there were sufficient remains to show that this place was formerly 
the court-yard of a castle. All that remains of this now is the name 
of the street, ' Castle Gable,' off Curfew Row." The murderer was 



" THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 241 

very properly defeated, and confessed his guilt, declaring that he 
was instigated by the Prince. Thereupon, the King's brother, the 
Duke of Albany, who had private and political hatred of Rothsay, 
procured his arrest ; commencing thus the enacting of one of the 
darkest tragedies of Scottish history. Harry Gow came from the 
fight to a dinner with the Town Council, and to municipal thanks. 
Meanwhile, Bonthron went to execution. He was, however, during 
the night, cut down by the confederate apothecary, and restored to 
life ; for, having influential connections, he had been only suspended 
by trick, and by cords under his dress. 

The " Fair Maid" and her lover, thus far escaping ill from the 
revenge and not strictly virtuous purposes of some high person- 
ages, had yet to experience that there were other modes by which 
these superior beings could then interfere with them. Her con- 
lection with the reformative confessor. Father Clement, exposed 
her and her father to a charge of heresy, — a charge of such a 
nature, and of such an origin in this case, that it could not be dis- 
regarded. It caused her t ither to find refuge in the hills with his 
former apprentice (as before stated, then become a chief), while the 
daughter, proposing retreat to Elcho Nunnery (now a ruin not far 
south-east of the town), was ultimately induced (through what 
strategy soon appeared) to take refuge, as she supposed, with the 
Duchess of Rothsay, who lived at Falkland Castle. Ian Eachin 
used his opportunities to urge upon old Simon his suit for Katie ; 
only, however, to meet refusal. Meanwhile, the arrested and then 
confined Duke of Rothsay was also beguiled to Falkland, where, in 
his characteristic adventurous fancy, disguising himself as his 
Duchess (after she had been withdrawn from the place), he attempt- 
ed to obtain possession of his present object of admiration, Katie, 
on her arrival there. But this was his last adventure, as the story 
tells us, and as we may read at Falkland, after we leave Perth, 
where its last scenes were enacted, — those of the combat of the 
two clans, that was, all along, gradually developed, to settle charac- 
teristically their feuds. 

This combat was on the North Inch, or island, so called because 
water in some way environs it. It is about a hundred acres in 
extent, — an open, meadow-like common, covered with grass and 
scattered trees, — situated close to the town, and beside the musi- 
cally flowing Tay. It is a delightful place for an evening walk. 
The plain, the wide river and the great hills east, and perhaps 

16 



242 ''THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 

belts of trees southward, are little altered since the time of the 
story. One sees pleasant villas and houses nestled around ; the 
quaint old arched bridge ; and, in the northern vista, two miles 
distant, the park and modern palace of the Earls of Mansfield, — 
Scone, where stood that ancient seat of the Kings of Scotland, 
where, for generations, was that famous stone (described page 210), 
now at Westminster, on which so many Kings in Britain have been 
crowned. 

Sir Walter's account of the combat can hardly be abridged. The 
musters of the two opposing clans, Chattan and Quhele, after 
attending mass, met for encounter. Harry Gow, discovering a 
man from the former missing, with alacrity seized the opportu- 
nity for equalizing the numbers of the combatants, and thus for 
fighting Eachin, chief of the other, whom, as his rival for Katie, he 
had held continually as an enemy. The struggle was desperate. 
Eight foster-brothers and their father, while parrying the attacks 
of the redoubtable Smith, successively fell in Eachin's defence. 
One after another died on each side, until but a few wounded Chat- 
tans held the field, and Eachin, who had been heroically served by 
his clansmen, found himself alone, and confronted by his terrible 
enemy. His heart failed ; and the contest closed by his flight 
across the river. We learn of his final destruction ; while Harry 
Gow, dechning the honor of knighthood from Earl Douglas (who 
had been an admiring spectator of the strong lover's valor), sought 
his true Valentine. 

We may, finally (by slightly changing the order of the scenes in 
the story), while on our way from Perth to Edinburgh, by the Fife 
and Kinross Railway, visit the place where the " Fair Maid " was 
involved in the Duke of Rothsay's last adventure. 

Rothsay, it is said, went from Perth to Falkland, by boat down 
the Tay to " the fishing village of Newburgh," and thence by horse. 
Now, the easiest route is by the railway just mentioned, about twenty 
miles, to Auchtermuchty station, and thence by a drive of about 
three miles to the town. It is a very "antique and sequestered " 
town, " at the head of the beautiful vale known as the Howe of Fife, 
traversed by the Eden;" and it is, also, "a curious specimen of 
the Scottish burghs of the sixteenth century." It "consists of a 
principal street, from which diverge most primitive streets and 
alleys in all directions." " The old thatched dwellings have never 
been replaced by more substantial tenements, and only a few are 



''THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH:' 243 

slated and of modern erection." The inhabitants, mostly weavers, 
'■' live contented in the homes of their fathers, practising the same 
trades, eating the same food, entertaining the same ideas, and at 
last sharing the same graves." 

Of the predecessor of the existing palace, the old castle or 
" Mar " to which Rothsay went, "no vestige is preserved," "and 
the precise site is unknown. The building is supposed to have 
occupied a mound immediately on the north of the present palace," 
and derived " its only historic notoriety " from associations with 
him. It was, probably, like some rude, strong towers one sees 
elsewhere in Scotland. The palace is, however, venerable enough 
to inspire one, not too analytically antiquarian, to feel it the scene 
of the ending of the Prince's life. Completed by James V., it 
became a royal hunting-seat, where several romantic events oc- 
curred. The palace, although partially destroyed by fire in Charles 
II. 's time, still presents a "singularly beautiful fragment, justifying 
the boast that all the Scottish royal residences, though not of great 
extent, exhibit remarkable architectural beauties." Its "western 
front has two round-towers, which are a diminutive imitation of 
those of Holyrood ; and stretching southward is a range of build- 
ing, with niches and statues, which perhaps bears as close a resem- 
blance to the depressed or perpendicular style of the English 
semi-ecclesiastical architecture, as any other building existing in 
Scotland. The east side is diversified by Northern renovation of 
classical" styles, — the most Northern renaissance^ — indeed, slight- 
ly French, thus influenced by Scotch relations with that people. The 
east side, also, is the remaining portion of a former quadrangle. 

At this palace the dying James V. heard of the birth of his cele- 
brated daughter, Mary Queen of Scots, and exclaimed, referring to 
the kingdom, "It came with a girl, and it will go with a girl." 
Thence, James the Solomon set out for Perth, to become involved 
in the Cowrie plot. There, also. Queen Mary sometime lived, even 
in happiness. " The original garden," says Mr. Mackie, once her 
" favorite retreat, ... is situated on the opposite side of a little rill, 
to the north of the palace, and is now converted into a ploughed 
field." 

The Duke of Rothsay, as intimated on a previous page, made, at 
Falkland, his experiment upon the susceptibilities of Katie Glover, 
and found that he could not trifle with them. He then, retired in 
defeat from this his last adventure, dined with his companion and 



244 " "^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ PERTHr 

master of horse, Sir John Ramorny ; and then ensued that mem- 
orable act of the Duke of Albany's ambition and "mortal cruelty." 
Ramorny and the apothecary Dwining, instigated by Albany, 
drugged Rothsay's wine, and dragged the soon unconscious Prince 
to a deep dungeon under the old Mar, or tower, there to undergo a 
predetermined and dreadful death, by which his person should 
show no mark of violence, but by which he should simply " cease 
to exist," through the sure but slow process of starvation. It was 
reported that the Prince was seriously ill of some emaciating and 
malignant disorder ; but the glee-maiden whom he had met at 
Perth, and whom he had recently encountered and brought with 
him to Falkland, accidentally strolling near the tower, heard moans, 
and soon learned the horrible truth. Immediately, she and Katie 
Glover, two ministering spirits, attempted to succor him ; but in 
vain. The humanity of woman to Rothsay, in his distress, is his- 
torical. The glee-maiden, in order to accomplish all that was pos- 
sible for the Prince, sought and found, through stratagem and 
disguise, the Earl of Douglas, then not far from Falkland. He, 
hearing her story, hastened thither, and entered the palace suddenly 
and decisively, as was his custom ; but he found himself too late to 
save his son-in-law, yet not too late for wild justice. Adopting the 
good old rule of executing in haste and judging at leisure, he 
quickly made Ramorny, Bonthron, and Dwining hang as examples 
of it. Report of the dreadful crime committed on the Prince be- 
came pubHc. His failings were forgotten, and his better qualities, 
not few, were remembered. Great indignation arose against Albany, 
who desired, through Rothsay's tragic death, to reach high power. 
But no one dared accuse a man so powerful ; and, as time passed, 
rumors of coming war dispelled these emotions, and Rothsay rest- 
ed, unrevenged by man upon his real murderer. The story of his 
sad fate, and, seemingly, his spirit, yet linger in the ruined palace, 
scene of many departed pleasures, as well as of his suffering, — 
a scene, says Mr. Mackie, " the most curious and interesting, but 
perhaps the most neglected, haunt in the wide circle of Scotland." 

And, finally, Katie Glover, released, and Harry Gow, without a 
rival, met as true Valentines, and "were married within four 
months after the battle of the North Inch ; " and many a distin- 
guished person has since, with pride, owned descent from "The 
Fair Maid of P-rth." 



" TUB abbot:' 24^ 

XXVIII. 

"The Abbot." 

Twelfth Novel 0/ tke Series ; Written 1819-20; Pjiblished September, 1820; Author' ^ 
Age, 49; Ti7tte of Action, 1567-8. 

TRAVELLERS, moving from Falkland towards Edinburgh, 
can easily visit the chief scenes of this novel, — Kinross, and 
Loch-Leven Castle, — by going from Strathmiglo station, about ten 
miles by rail, to Kinross town, a pretty little place at the western 
end of the Loch. 

Sir Walter Scott told Mr. Lockhart, "that the idea of 'The 
Abbot ' had arisen in his mind during a visit to Blair Adam " (a few 
miles south of Kinross), the estate of the Right Hon. William 
Adam (one of Scott's life-long friends, a man with Scott's own 
bonhomjnie). There, indeed, nine intimates, forming a " Blair- 
Adam Club," met for many years, — Sir Walter with them, from 
1816 to 1831. " They usually contrived to meet on a Friday ; spent 
the Saturday in a ride to some scene of historical interest within 
an easy distance, enjoyed a quiet Sunday at home, duly attending 
divine worship at the Kirk of Cleish (not Cleishbotham) ; gave 
Monday morning to another antiquarian excursion ; and returned to 
Edinburgh in time for the Courts of Tuesday." Thus Scott visited 
many celebrated scenes. To one of these excursions must be 
ascribed his dramatic sketch of " Macduff's Cross " (described in 
chapter xlix.), "and to that of the dog-days of 1819, we owe the 
weightier obligation of ' The Abbot.' " 

This novel is partly a continuation of the one he had written 
immediately before it, — "The Monastery," the localities of which 
are chiefly in the Southern Midland Border of Scotland, where the 
action of this one also begins, at a place prominent in that, — 
Avenel Castle, described from his boyish haunt, Smailholm Tower. 
It is a place deserving a visit, and is described in chapter xxxiv. 
There the childless lady of the Knight of Avenel, one sunset time, 
pacing the battlements and awaiting the knight's coming, saw a boy, 
who had been playing in a little lake below, rescued from acci- 
dental drowning. After her husband's arrival, this boy, Roland 
Graeme, an orphan, was retained as her page. He continued to 



246 " THE ABBOT'' 

live, during several years, in the family, until, at length, he became 
involved in a quarrel, and, in disgrace left the castle, to seek and 
meet an aged grandmother, Magdalen Graeme, a devoted Catholic 
who hved not far distant. She welcomed him from the Protestant 
family of Avenels, in which he had been bred, and soon rendered 
him better acquainted with herself than he had yet been. The 
ancient power of the Roman Church was in that region broken, and 
its devotees were scattered and repressed, even as Rome had 
scattered and repressed others, and Magdalen Graeme thus became 
a persecuted, outcast, religious enthusiast. She endeavored to in- 
spire her own sentiments in her grandson, and, by degrees, intro- 
duced him to a design, that, in her weird eloquence, she assured 
would bring him for partners " the mighty and the valiant, the 
power of the church, and the pride of the noble. Succeed or fail " 
in this design, said she to him, " Hve or die, thy name shall be 
among those with whom success or failure is alike glorious ; death 
or life, alike desirable. Forward, then, forward ! life is short, and 
our plan is laborious. Angels, saints, and the whole blessed host 
of heaven, have their eyes even now on this barren and blighted 
land of Scotland — what say I ? on Scotland? — their eye on us, 
Roland, — on the frail woman, on the inexperienced youth, who, 
amidst the ruins which sacrilege hath made in the holy place, de- 
vote themselves to God's cause and that of their lawful Sovereign. 
Amen, so be it ! " 

The aged but enthusiastic and determined woman, devoting her 
grandson to this great and mysterious design, took him, as a means 
of securing him in it, to an ancient mansion, where privately dwelt 
adherents of the Roman faith. There he was peculiarly assisted to 
a rather strange and romantic interview with "a girl apparently not 
much past sixteen," whose " eyes were at once soft and brilliant," 
who had "an excellent shape, bordering perhaps on efnbonpoint,''^ 
"but beautifully formed," and "a very pretty foot," and "round 
arms and taper fingers." Roland was a modest youth, and it was 
only by stolen glances that " he contrived to ascertain these inter- 
esting particulars." H-e thought, meanwhile, that he could, once or 
twice, " detect the damsel in the act of taking similar cognizance 
of his own person." A sort of duenna, who attended the young 
lady, — Catherine Seyton, — soon left her with Roland, address- 
ing her the mysterious injunction, " Remember, Catherine, who 
thou art, and for what destined." And thus began one of the 



' THE abbot:' 247 

most romantic acquaintances that the Great Magician has described. 
The next notable turn to Roland's history was a visit, with old 
Magdalen, to " St. Mary's Abbey of Kennaquhair," described from 
the beautiful but, at the time of the story, despoiled Melrose, where 
the monks, yet suffered to remain, were silently and privately en- 
gaged in electing and consecrating an abbot. Their solemnity 
was interrupted by a profanity characteristic of those times, when 
venerable sanctities were ruthlessly violated. A rabble of masked 
mockers, headed by one called the Abbot of Unreason, burst into 
the church, and were making sad havoc, when Sir Halbert Glen- 
dinning, Knight of Avenel, appeared attended, and dispersed them. 
Roland, recognized, was retained in his train ; and in it went to 
Edinburgh, where he again met Catherine Seyton, and became 
acquainted with her father. Lord Seyton. But greater events than 
even this were interviews that he had at Holyrood with the Earl of 
Murray, brother of Queen Mary and Regent of Scotland, one who 
" held his authority by the deposition and imprisonment of his sister 
and benefactress." The result of these interviews was that Roland 
eventually went with an embassy sent to Mary, then confined at 
Loch-Leven Castle. There he was presented to the Queen, and 
placed in her service, by direction of Murray. This " most illus- 
trious, most unhappy lady," as Murray is reported describing her, 
was there " sequestrated from state affairs, and from the business of 
the public, until the world " was " so effectually settled that she 
might enjoy her natural and uncontrolled freedom, without her 
royal disposition being exposed to the practices of wicked and de- 
signing men." It was that sort of precautionary charge much prac- 
tised towards her, and from which she, in this instance certainly, 
privately revolted and desired escape, — a confinement that led to 
one of the most romantic episodes of her tragic life, — one insepa- 
rably associated with this castle. The Chief-Commissioner Adam, 
in a little privately printed book, says : " This castle, renowned and 
attractive above all others in my neighborhood, became an object 
of much increased attention, and a theme of constant conversation, 
after the author of Waverley had — by his inimitable power of dehn- 
eating character ; by his creative, poetic fancy in representing 
scenes of varied interest ; and by the splendor of his romantic 
descriptions — infused a more diversified and a deeper tone of feel- 
ing into the history of Queen Mary's captivity and escape." 

Loch Leven has an irregularly roundish outline, and is now about 



248 



THE abbot: 



eight and a half miles in circuit, though formerly nearly fifteen 
miles. From an area of about 3300 acres, it was reduced in 1836 
to less than about iioo acres of its previous extent. It is cele- 
brated for its excellent trout. Although a portion of its shores 
are low, there are from it, especially southward and eastward, views 
of high hills. 

In the lake are a few islands. One southward, about eighty acres 
m extent, contained a priory dedicated to St. Serf. About half a 
mile from Kinross, and towards the centre, is another, lesser in 
•size (now only about five acres in extent, and formerly smaller), but 
more celebrated, bearing Loch-Leven Castle. Originally a royal 
«tronghold, and celebrated for a siege sustained in 1335, this castle 
was, at the time of the tale, held by the widow of Sir William 
jL)oijglas, who, by James V., was mother of the Regent Murray, and 
who then was directress of the castle, and, indeed, of its royal occu- 
jjant. 

Examination of topography or of architecture in detail may be- 
come interesting to any one, at least when, through intricacies of 
tither, the escape of a captive, always an interesting adventure, is 
ti> be traced. And the remains of the Castle of Loch Leven be- 
come unusually attractive and worth exploring, since through them 
wc can, even now, follow the romantic departure of a woman fasci- 
nating as Mary Queen of Scots. 

This castle, now partially ruined, is nearly square, and about 585 
feot in circuit, presenting rather regular and not lofty walls of gray 
lichen-stained stone, and two conspicuous towers, the chief of 
wh'ch, the keep, is near the north-west corner. This tower is 
square, and has a dungeon-like basement containing a well, above 
whir.h is a vaulted common-room, and over this three other stories. 
Its walls are upwards of six feet thick. Its top was once gabled and 
turreted. At the south-east corner is a lesser tower, nearly round, 
and three stories high, with a sort of stone- vaulted cellar, into which 
the water once flowed. It projects beyond, and thus flanks, the 
eastern and southern sides of the castle. In the main story of this 
lesser tower is a rudely decorated window, overlooking the lake, 
that formerly, probably, flowed to the tower, at a level about six feet 
beneath this window. The island, nearly flat, and now, as before 
noted, nearly doubled in size since the time when the Queen was on 
it, extends a little distance on all sides beyond the castle walls. The 
entrance was at the north, admitting to a court-yard; at the western 



THE abbot: 



249 



side of which was, apparently, a chapel. On the side opposite the 
entrance, and adjoining the round-tower, were the Queen's apart- 
ments, said to have been three in number, — a small " anteroom, 
within which opened a large parlor, and from that again the Queen's 
bedroom. Another small apartment, which opened into the same 
parlor, contained the beds of the gentlewomen in waiting." The 
\aulted room in the base of the tower is represented to have been 
occupied by an armorer and his forge, and, afterwards, by Roland 
Graeme for other purposes than sleep. The Lady of Lochleven and 
her garrison lived, probably, in the square tower or keep. 

Roland soon found that he was established as the Queen's only 
male attendant ; and that the embassy, with which he had come, 
visited her to enact their part in a strange and trying exercise of 
power upon her. During an earlier portion of a year of the story 
(1567), she had surrendered herself to a body of her nobles, confed- 
erated and insurgent, at Carberry Hill (about half a dozen miles 
east of Edinburgh, a memorable spot easily visited from Dalkeith). 
Conditions then made were imperfectly observed by her opponents ; 
and she found afterward, through life, scarcely an interval of per- 
sonal liberty. In furtherance of the ambitious projects of the 
nobles, she was placed, as has been stated, at Loch-Leven Castle ; 
and there the embassy, accompanied by Roland, seemed about 
reaching the limit, indeed, of their power over her. In an inter- 
view, — account of which should be read on the site of its occur- 
rence, as the great master has delineated it, — Lords Ruthven and 
Lindesay and Sir Robert Melville extorted her abdication of the 
crown, in favor of her infant son, (James VI. of Scotland and I. of 
England), under a regency. 

" Few descriptions in fictitious narrative can be compared, for 
graphic delineation and intense pathos, with " this scene, correctly 
says one who has written respecting it. " The leading features of" 
the " picture are, no doubt, historically true ; but the filling up is 
entirely the work of" Scott's "own creative fancy. Who that has 
read this narrative, and looks upon the ruins of the Castle of Loch 
Leven, can fail to recollect this admirable piece of historical paint- 
ing, for so we are entitled to call it, — the tears of the defenceless 
Queen, the determination of Ruthven, and the stern rudeness of 
old Lindsay of the Byres ? " 

After this event, Mary's position continually became less endur- 
able. The Lady of Lochleven, not of the mildest character, fell 



250 " THE abbot:' 

keenly that her own son, although his father was King, could not 
succeed to that exalted rank for which the son of her captive was 
destined. Little enough of pleasant society did she afford Mary, 
but fully enough of watchful surveillance. Roland Graeme's iso- 
lated life was consoled by the presence of Catherine Seyton, who 
had been appointed lady-in-waiting to Mary. But a change came 
over this too happy consolation. Becoming on good terms with 
Lady Douglas, he found that he correspondingly lost favor with the 
fair Catherine, and with her royal mistress, and that a son of Lady 
Douglas — George, a young man — seemed attaining intimacy and 
influence with the former. The keepers of the castle, finding Ro- 
land apparently tiring of his mode of life, employed him on com- 
missions to Kinross town. During his first visit, for which he had 
arrayed himself quite brilliantly, he attended a village festival held 
at just that time, and there, to his intense surprise and secret de- 
light, had an opportunity to dance on the green with Catherine, 
whom he knew, although she was carefully disguised. Romance 
seemed grown reality, as this lovely girl continually appeared to him 
wherever he went. A mystery of her departure from the island- 
castle and of her presence in the town, began, however, to suggest 
even secrets that then were more profound, and the design to 
which his grandmother had devoted him, when, after further inter- 
view with Catherine, she led him to a cottage to see one Mother 
Nicneven, an old witch. In this person he recognized Magdalen 
Graeme herself, and then, gradually, other Catholics, disguised and 
haunting the place. He was, evidently, becoming involved in a 
plot, then maturing, for Mary's escape, and, possibly, for her resto- 
ration to power and the wide religious and political consequences 
that would attend such restoration. He was, indeed, gaining a clew 
to the mystery of Catherine Seyton's peculiar movements. 

It is sufficient to observe, that a plan for the Queen's escape was 
formed, and that the first attempt to realize it failed ; but that an- 
other plan was soon arranged. 

Discovery of an apparent attempt, by the castle steward, to poi- 
son the Queen (and Roland Graeme), by means of material ob- 
tained from Mother Nicneven, became means for the introduction 
of that strange person into the castle itself; and of an interview 
there, in which the Lady of Lochleven hoped to elicit from her 
knowledge how to counteract this poison supposed to have been 
taken by the Queen. In this interview, however, the Lady simply 



» THE abbot:' 251 

learned that the steward and herself were the only persons de~ 
ceived ; and that the material he had used was harmless, and its 
apparent effects were feigned. The Lady had also to listen to a 
wild prophecy from the excited old woman, proclaiming Mary's 
speedy release, not only from enthralment there, but anywhere in 
Scotland. 

The steward was then sent from the castle, on an odd mission, 
that related to treatment for his deserts, for which he did not go 
far. At a " change house, as it was termed, not very distant from 
a romantic dell, well known by the name of Keirie Craigs," he was 
killed in an altercation with Henry Seyton, brother of Catherine. 
While dying, he confessed his attempt at poisoning to George 
Douglas (the son of the Lady), who appeared there. 

" I failed in my attempt to take away that Moabitish stumbling- 
block and her retinue," he said. " I did chiefly purpose for love of 
thee." " Hast thou not, despite the honor thou owest to thy par- 
ents, the faith that is due to thy religion, the truth that is due tc 
thy King, been so carried away by the charms of this beautiful 
sorceress, that thou wouldst have helped her to escape from her 
prison-house, and lent her thine arm again to ascend the throne, 
which she had made a place of abomination ? " The steward de- 
clared that he had acted only to save a Douglas, believing that he 
was doing righteous service against a Papist enemy of Scotland, 
and one bewitching, to ruin, the heir of the house he served. The 
Queen, indeed, with that fascination she always possessed, and 
could exercise most powerfully, had gained entire control over the 
susceptible son of her vigilant guardian, and even permitted him to 
indulge the most delightful and ambitious hopes in connection with 
herself; and thus she had farther gained an important assistant 
towards her escape, whose aid might be rendered available at the 
very place and time where then much needed. For, as she told 
Roland, her plans of escape were " indifferent well laid " on the 
mainland ; but the difficulty, in accomplishing them, was that of 
passing the castle locks, and of reaching the land. To obviate this 
difficulty, young Douglas might be used ; and to assist in removing 
it, Roland, devotedly attached to the Queen, used his greatest inge- 
nuity. And thus he performed his part in that glorious design, 
and almost holy cause, to which his aged grandmother had in- 
troduced him, and which the Queen and her adherents strove to 
consummate at the earliest practicable time. Already, Mary corre- 



253 " THE ABBOT:^ 

sponded, or telegraphed by means of lights, with the inmates of the 
hut at Kinross that Roland had visited, — a secret business he was 
allowed to learn. Meanwhile, he practised an art with which he 
had become acquainted at Avenel Castle, and, by use of an other- 
wise deserted forge in the cellar beneath the royal rooms, fashioned 
a bundle of keys to closely resemble that carried by Lady Douglas, 
and mastering the important locks of her prison. A farther devel- 
opment of the design was effected by introduction into the castle 
of a man-at-arms who was recommended to the Lady by her son. 
This man was engaged as a guard by her, after she had examined 
him, and learned from him that he was Edward Glendinning, nearly 
related to the Knight of Avenel, — a well-known, earnest Protes- 
tant. The Lady did not, however, quite comprehend then, that, 
although he was so nearly related to the knight as to be his brother, 
he had very different politics and religion, and was no other than 
the Abbot of Kennaquhair, disguised and serving his sovereign. 

At length an eventful night came, — that for trial of meditated 
and elaborated plans of escape. The new military retainer was 
posted sentinel. Two lights in the cottage informed that all was 
ready on the mainland. The Lady, as had been her custom since 
the steward's attempt at poisoning, came to Mary's apartment to 
taste the dishes provided for the Queen's supper. Just then, leav- 
ing her keys a moment upon the table, and being skilfully thrown 
off her guard, she " forgot her charge for one second ; and in that 
second were lost the whole fruits of her former vigilance : " during 
it, Roland substituted his forged keys for hers, that were genuine. 
Awaiting " the dead hour of midnight, when all was silent in the 
castle," he began the final act of the Queen's escape. He first 
opened a postern door to a little external garden, exchanged a word 
with the disguised abbot, and learned that a boat was ready, close 
under the walls. The guard upon the tower, who had received 
proper attention, had drunk deeply of ale, and was asleep. Imme- 
diately the queen and her maid of honor, Catherine, and another 
person, and the disguised abbot, were stealthily embarked in this 
boat, commanded by Henry Seyton. During a moment's delay, 
Roland locked gate and wicket behind the escaping party, and then 
away the boatman pulled. But the dash of their oars aroused the 
sentinel on the tower, who at once sounded an alarm. Thanks, how- 
ever, to Roland for his precaution, doors of oak and bolts of iron 
kept the garrison within close bounds, from which, although harque- 



''THE abbot:' 253 

buss balls rained around the fugitives, the Queen went safe, shielded 
by the body of George Douglas interposed between them and her 
person. Soon, however, the boat and those within it were securely 
at land. Mr. Mackie tells us that " A spot called Mary's Knowe, 
upon the shore of the lake of Loch Leven, is still pointed out as the 
place at which the Queen, young Douglas, and a female attendant 
landed on the night of the escape," At the shore a dozen horses 
were ready. "The Queen and her ladies, with all" others who 
came from the boat, were instantly mounted. " Holding aloof from 
the village, that was already alarmed by the firing from the castle, 
with Douglas acting as their guide, they soon reached the open 
ground, and began to ride as fast as was consistent with keeping 
together in good order." " Long before daybreak they ended their 
hasty and perilous journey before the gates of Niddrie, a castle in 
West Lothian, belonging to Lord Seyton." The proposed route 
of this tour towards Edinburgh leads, less directly, from Kinross to 
the same place, by way of Dunfermline (with its noble abbey) and 
Stirling (with its many attractions already described). Niddrie, now 
ruinous, is accessible from the road between the latter and Edin- 
burgh, from which it is distant about a dozen miles. It stands near 
the railway, whence the passing traveller may have a glance at 
its great, grim tower. The restless fate that seemed always to con- 
trol Queen Mary, only permitted her to remain there long enough 
to greet some assembled loyal subjects, and briefly time for Magda- 
len Graeme to appear and declare Roland Grseme true heir of 
Avenel. The Queen, on the morning after her arrival, departed for 
the strong castle of Dumbarton, — a castle well known, to those 
who pass along the lower Clyde, for its mighty rock and command- 
ing outlook. But the opposing Regent, Murray, was already in 
the field to meet her ; and, from a spot called " the Court Knowe " 
(about three miles south of Glasgow), it is said, Mary beheld, on 
the 13th of May, 1568, the battle of Langside, that decided her his- 
tory, and finally deprived her of her crown. This field is about 
two miles south-west of Glasgow. South-easterly of the field, near 
Cathcart Castle, is, or was, an upright stone, bearing -a carved 
crown and the inscription, " M. R. 1568," marking the Queen's 
position, that overlooks the field sloping to a considerable distance 
below it. There are remains of a small Roman camp in the neigh- 
borhood, sometimes, though erroneously, called " Queen Mary's 
camp." Scott represents that she viewed the battle from Crooks- 



-54 



THE ABBOT. 



ton Castle (where it is popularly asserted she was betrothed to 
Lord Darnley, and lived some days after her marriage with hini) ; 
but such a position may be thought to involve some topographical 
uncertainty, and Scott himself sufficiently explains this by notes. 
Both Henry Seyton and George Douglas perished on that unhappy 
day. The queen was obliged to flee southward. Local tradition 
asserts that in a lane, near Langside, called Din's Dikes, two hay- 
makers threatened to kill her with their scythes if she did not sur- 
render, but she escaped them. 

Her first halt was at the Abbey of Dundrennan, upon the south- 
west coast of Scotland, and nearly sixty miles distant from the 
field of battle. In that remote quarter of Galloway, the Reforma- 
tion had not yet been strictly enforced against the monks ; and a 
few still hngered in their cells unmolested. Their prior, with tears 
and reverence, received the fugitive Queen, The interesting re- 
mains of this abbey, situated in the " Guy Mannering " country, can 
be visited when the scenes of that story are explored, and can be 
found described at the beginning of chapter xx. At Dundrennan, 
Mary, Queen of Scots, made the fatal decision to leave her own 
land, with its captivities and defeats and trials, behind her, and to 
commit herself to Elizabeth of England. Thence she departed for 
ever from her kingdom. And long her dismissed followers thence 
watched her going ; "and long, long could they discern the kerchief 
of Mary, as she waved the oft-repeated signal of adieu to her faith- 
ful adherents and to the shores of Scotland." 

Happier times ensued for Roland — become Roland Avenel — 
and for Catherine Seyton. He, at length lawful heir of an an- 
cient house, and she, a free maiden, grown to know each other 
well through strangely romantic trials, were united as true lovers 
should be. 

Thus, romances of Scott are supposed to have led successively 
through south-western, western, far northern, and eastern central 
parts of Scotland, to its capital, where are found many places of 
interest associated both with his Hfe and with portions of several 
of his works, and especially with the most important scenes of 
one of his most celebrated and charming novels, sketched in the 
thirtieth chapter. 



SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 255 

XXIX. 

Scott's Edinburgh. 

"A/TINE own romantic town," " Edina, Scotia's darling seat," 
" Queen of the North," exclaimed the poet, with enthusi- 
asm that may well be inspired by view of this noble and beautiful 
city, to which this tour is supposed to conduct us now, and in which 
we may pleasantly make many explorations. While these are made, 
we may find ourselves assisted by having in mind a more complete 
sketch of Edinburgh than that given in the Introduction (page 14). 
Accordingly, even at risk of describing what may be very familiar, 
the features of the city may be traced here. 

On the southern shore of the Firth of Forth, and about two 
miles from its broad waters, is a narrow and not very deep ravine, 
extending nearly east and. west, formerly called the " North Loch," 
and now traversed by a railway, the station of which is about mid- 
way in it. Above this ravine, on the south side, abruptly rises a 
rocky ridge, the crest of which gradually ascends from low land 
eastward, about a mile, until it attains an elevation of 445 feet above 
sea-level, and abruptly terminates in precipitous crags of trap-rock. 
On this ridge is built the Old Town, ancient, lofty, crowded, smoky, 
with tall, dark stone houses, the Victoria spire, the crowned tower 
of St, Giles, and, chiefest of all, at the highest point westward, the 
great and famous Castle. At the end and base of the ridge, east- 
ward, and in a rather wide and low vale, is Holyrood, with its square 
palace and turreted angles, and its ruined abbey. Almost north of 
it is Calton Hill, an irregular eminence, with steep, rocky, or grassy 
surfaces, reaching a height of 344 feet, crowned with monuments, 
and girdled with castellated or modern classic buildings. From this 
hill, the wide and imposing Princes Street, one of the noblest in 
Europe, extends westward, bounding the northern side of the ravine 
already described, and presenting towards it a long array of otten 
elegant modern houses and shops, — the front of the New Town, 
that stretches northward from it over comparatively level ground. 
Gardens or public buildings Hne the southern side of the street, 
and partly occupy the ravine. Out of these, most conspicuous and 
beautiful of all oljjects, rises two hundred feet an elaborate brown- 
stone Gothic spire, in the style of a mediaeval cross, and noblest 



356 SCOTT'S EDINBURGU. 

example of that style ever reared, — indeed, one of the noblest 
open-air monuments on earth, — the just and honorable memorial 
of Scotland to Sir Walter Scott. And there, between the Old 
Town and the New, that both look on it, sits the gloriously cano- 
pied marble form of the genial man and manly genius who loved 
them both so well, and who, in the spirit allowed to abide upon 
earth, watches over them and fills them with a strange and pleasant 
fascination. 

If we would obtain a wider and more complete, and perhaps the 
best, view of this his "own romantic town," and of the not less 
romantic country around it, we should obtain the view from some 
commanding height. The most commanding in or near the city, 
we shall find south-eastward from it. Not far beyond Holyrood, 
and in that direction, rises, nearly six hundred feet above sea- 
level, a vast range of dark crags sweeping in bold curve forward 
towards the town, and presenting, along their tops, precipitous 
walls, from which steeply slope long trails of debris. These, the 
Salisbury Crags, composed of greenstone interposed among suc- 
cessively upheaved layers of sandstone, are the shattered ends of 
mighty strata thrown up at a sharp angle, and dipping as sharply 
eastward. Directly beyond the Crags, and rising yet higher, is 
Arthur's Seat, a huge double-headed hill, presenting, from some 
directions, pecuHar resemblance to the form of a recumbent lion. 
Its summit, eight hundred and twenty- two feet above sea-level, the 
highest in or near Edinburgh, should, if possible, be reached by 
travellers. 

The ascent is not difficult, either from Salisbury Crags, or by an 
easier route from Dunsappie Loch, on the other side, — that trav- 
ersed on foot by Queen Victoria herself The hill is a worthy, even 
if a merely traditional, memorial of the great British Prince, Arthur, 
who is said to have defeated the Saxons on or near it. Composed 
largely of porphyry, veined with jasper ; of basalt, and trap-rock 
breaking upon sandstone formations, and bearing upwards of four 
hundred species of plants, — it presents much of interest to the 
naturahst, while the view commanded from its summit, embracing a 
wonderful variety of picturesque natural objects, and of historical 
and legendary scenes in chorographical comprehensiveness, is pleas- 
ing to almost every one. 

One who, on a clear day, looks out, over its bare grassy or 
rock-bound slopes, sees a panorama of great extent and of really 



SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 257 

national charactei. Nearly westward, in the middle distance, rises 
the nobly picturesque Castle, dominant over the city, and reached 
by the ascending crest of the Old Town, with its dark-gray tone 
of coloring, and the smoky veil suggesting its name, — Auld Reekie. 
There, too, are seen the sharp lofty spire of Victoria Hall and the 
crowned tower of St. Giles and the long ranges of the High-Street 
buildings. Left of these are George Heriot's magnificent Hospital, 
and the green trees of George's Square, where Scott lived in early 
life, and the " meadows " and Bruntsfield Links. Just at the foot of 
the slope of the Old Town, and seen over the crest of the Crags, 
appears Jeanie Deans's Cottage. A httle to the right is the fresh, 
stately New Town, athwart which rises the glorious spire of the 
great monument to Sir Walter Scott. Further on, to the right, is 
the Calton Hill, studded with monumental structures. Then, yet 
farther, in a deep, quiet valley, is Holyrood with its palatial quad- 
rangle and ruined chapel. Beyond it are seen, in more distant 
range, the broad, bright waters of the Firth of Forth, bordered, 
northward, by the hills of Fife, — among these, the East and West 
Lomonds, near Loch Leven, and, left of them, the dim, gray Ochils. 
Towards the west, over Linlithgowshire, the smoke of Stirling 
(more than thirty miles distant) may be seen, and, far beyond this, 
the pale-blue summits of Ben Ledi and Ben Lomond. South-west, 
rising perhaps most prominent of all the many heights in sight, are 
the green, forest-grown Pentland Hills, abounding in ravines. And 
nearer and more southward are Braid Hills, at the eastern end of 
which (unseen) is the village of Libberton (Reuben Butler's home), 
with its little square, pinnacled, gray church-tower and cottages 
nestled among trees. Nearer is Blackford Hill, whence Marmion 
saw arrayed the army of James IV., before its march to Flodden, 
and the hill of which Scott wrote : — 

" Blackford ! on whose uncultured breast, 
Among the broom and thorn and whin, 
A truant boy, I sought the nest, 
Or listed as I lay at rest, 

While rose on breezes thin 
The murmur of the city crowd." 

Not far eastward are places suggesting the " Heart of Mid- Lo- 
thian." There is the reputed farm of Dumbiedikes, with its house 
imbosomed among dark-green trees, upon a slight knoll. And 
there, also, is the very fork of the roads where the Laird, pursuing 
Jeanie Deans when she started for London, offered her " siller " and 

17 



2C;S SCOTT'S EDINBURGB. 

his heart and hand. South-east are the church and hamlet of Dud- 
dingston, with its pretty loch. Farther away are the heights 
around Lasswade, where Scott hved during his early married life. 
Closely east of these is Dalkeith, where is a seat of the great Scotts 
of Buccleuch. Far away, over these, towards the south-eastward, 
is the long, broad range of the bare, green Lammermuir Hills, that 
gave n^e to the " Bride " of one of Scott's most perfect compo- 
sitions. Throughout these many scenes extends one of the richest, 
greenest, and most peaceful of rural countries. Far away, more 
duly east, gleams the wide German Ocean, out of which towers the 
distant, precipitous Bass Rock. Near it stands the conical North- 
Berwick Law ; and northward are the distant Isle of May, and, 
again, in sight, the hills of Fife and waters of the Forth. Close 
by and near the shore is the long gentle slope of the field of Pres- 
tonpans, perhaps yellow with grain, where, in 1745, Prince Charles 
Edward routed the " Hanoverians," under Sir John Cope ; where 
Scott lived in 1777 ; and where a portion of the action in " Waverley " 
occurred. Near by, also, is Banktown, where lived the noble 
Colonel Gardiner, who was killed in that battle. The whole coun- 
try, indeed, is crowded with historical sites, that render recital of 
their names almost an epitome of Scottish history. Not far south 
from the field so important to the Jacobite cause is Carberry 
Hill, where, in 1567, Queen Mary found herself betrayed to the 
captivity that ended at Loch Leven. Almost in the range of Pres- 
tonpans field, and nearer, is Pinkie, where, in 1547, the Scottish 
army was defeated by the English, under command of the Duke of 
Somerset. On heights south-east, Romans encamped ; south-west 
encamped opposing Picts ; and on more than one site visible have 
Cromwell's forces been posted. On one side of the spectator is the 
lofty, dominant, well-kept Castle of Edinburgh ; on the other is 
retired and ruined Craigmillar. In another direction, and visible in 
almost a single glance, are Holyrood and Linhthgow and Stirling ; 
the last two faintly marked, it may be, but yet combining, in this 
single panoramic glance, to present thus at once the three chief 
royal palaces of the old kingdom. And many and brilliant or excit- 
ing are the names of the men and of the women whose fame lingers 
amid these wide scenes, and yet animates or glorifies them. With 
honest pride may natives regard them ; and one, even though for- 
eign to the country, can but join in Scott's intensely patriotic out- 
burst : — 



iSCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 259 



"O Caledonia ! 
Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 
Land of the mountain and the flood, 
As I view each well-known scene, 
Think what is now and what hath been, 
I love them better still." 

Proudly and truly might all Scotchmen exclaim with him, — 

" Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 

' This is my own, my native land I ' " 

l^Iany places or objects within the city of Edinburgh are de- 
scribed or mentioned in various chapters of this book, relating to 
works of Scott with which they are associated. Besides these 
places or objects are others connected with the story of his life. 
Among all the scenes that suggest his Hving or his creating there 
are variety and space enough for more than one excursion. The 
first may be, quite properly, to the site of his birthplace, in College 
Wynd (page 14), reached from the New Town (where travellers so- 
journ), by the North and South Bridges : the former of which 
crosses the ravine described on page 255; and the latter, another 
similar valley on the opposite (or southern) side of the Old Town. 
Farther on in the same direction (southward) is George Square, 
"built in 1766, in rivalry to the scheme for forming the New 
Town," then being developed on the other (the northern) side of 
the city. In the last century, this square was occupied by persons 
of rank. At No. 25, Scott's father hved many years. The house, 
like most of those on the square, is built of rough stone, with 
smoothed yellowish sandstone window-cases, quite plain, and with 
rustic quoins. Each side of the front door is a pillar supporting 
a small entablature, of no particular style. The height is three 
stories ; the plan, that of many common block-houses. In front, 
in the area of the square, are trees and shrubbery ; but the whole 
neighborhood bears a cool, severe aspect, not stimulative to imagi- 
nation. Here Scott informs us, in his autobiography, was his 
"most established place of r.esidence until" his "marriage, in 
1797." On the sunk floor of this house was a httle "den," a room 
that was young Scott's own pecuhar domain, where he commenced 
his museum of curiosities and rehcs, that afterward became so 
remarkable at Abbotsford. Close to the site of his birthplace 
stands the College, where he was a student during the four years 
1789-92, when he was studying "with great ardor and perse ver- 



26o SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 

ance" "for the bar," The edifice is altered from its appearance in 
his time, and is now a large and interesting edifice. 

On the crest of the old town is another neighborhood where 
Scott spent much time, — Parliament Square and the court rooms 
around it, associated with his professional occupations, so remarka- 
bly engrossing when connected with his voluminous literary work, 
places where he continually met many of his earliest and life- 
long friends. The chief object of interest there is the great hall in 
which the Scottish Parliament sat until consummation of the treaty 
of union in 1707. This hall is now a sort of promenade or exchange 
for the lawyers and the public, and forms an anteroom to adjoining 
courts. In it one can imagine Scott surrounded, as he often was, 
by a group of well-known men. It is a room, says Mr. Billings, 
" which none who have seen can fail to remember." Built towards 
the middle of the seventeenth century, it is "one hundred and 
twenty-two feet long, and forty-nine feet broad," with simple, plas- 
tered walls, and an oaken timber roof showing beams and pendants, 
— Gothic in arrangement, but Jacobean in detail. There is a modern 
floor of inlaid oak ; and there are also portraits, statues, and a few 
monuments and some painted glass. In one of the adjoining rooms 
sits " the High Court of Justiciary, the supreme criminal tribunal 
of Scotland," before which Effie Deans was tried. The aspect of 
the square, outside, is much changed since her times. During the 
winter of 1797-8, Scott, soon after his marriage, "carried his bride 
to a lodging in George Street." Thence the bridegroom and bride 
soon removed to 19, South-Castle Street, where they occupied the 
"second flat." In 1798, Scott purchased the house No. 39 North- 
Castle Street, — a street a little west of the centre of the New Town, 
and leading from Princes Street, opposite the castle. This house 
is on the east side, a little north of George Street, and is pleasant 
and respectable. It continued to be his town residence until it was 
sold in the summer of 1826, after his financial troubles. "Here," 
says William Howitt, " a great portion of the best of his life was 
passed. Here he lived, enjoyed, worked, saw his friends, and felt, 
in the midst of his happy family, the sense of the great name and 
affection that he had won amongst his fellow-men." Here he occu- 
pied, as his "den," a small, square room, behind the dining parlor 
(on the second floor, and at the back of the house, the writer 
thinks). "It had," recorded Lockhart, "but a single Venetian 
window, opening on a patch of turf not much larger than itself." 



SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 261 

"The walls were entirely clothed with books ; most of them folios 
and quartos ; and all in that complete state of repair which at a 
glance reveals a tinge of bibliomania ; " a " large proportion " bound 
in "blue morocco, — all stamped with his device of the portcullis 
and its motto, clausus tutus ero^ — being an anagram of his name 
in Latin." Every thing was excellently arranged for literary work, 
and kept in fine order. Even the silver furniture on the desk, was 
in such condition, " that it might have come from the silversmith's 
window half an hour before." In this snug retreat he wrote won- 
ders of quantity and quality, received only a few friends, and was 
generally attended by his great dog Maida, or his venerable cat, 
" Hinse of Hinsfeldt." 

At the east end of Princes Street, in what is, or was, the Crown 
Hotel, was the business place of Constable, who published many of 
Scott's works, and where is, or was, a little room in which the 
" Great Unknown " occasionally wrote. After the business failure 
(Jan. 17, 1826), when Scott had become, as he said, " The Too Well 
Known," he took lodgings at Mrs. Brown's, North St. David's Street, 
opposite the monument, and was there in May, June, and July of that 
year. At that place he heard of the death (May 15) of Lady Scott, 
Ht Abbotsford, respecting which he wrote most touchingly in his 
diary. During the winter and spring of 1826-7 he had six months 
of hard labor in Walker Street, a street situated in what then were 
the western outskirts of the New Town. Scott's last sojourn in 
Edinburgh was at Douglas's Hotel, St. Andrew's Square (near his 
monument). He arrived there exhausted, almost dying, from his 
tour in Italy and Germany, and left, on July 11, 1832, for Abbots- 
ford, and the close of his long, eventful career. 

The object in Edinburgh around which now chiefest gather asso- 
ciations with Sir Walter Scott is, however, that noble memorial 
cross, the architectural glory of the good town, by which it has so 
honored itself in honoring its greatest genius. Set in the very 
centre of the old and of the new of his storied native city, it is first, 
and continually, and last, before us in graceful majesty of form and 
of expressiveness. 

Soon after the death of Sir Walter Scott, efforts to erect an 
appropriate memorial to him were begun. Much time was occupied 
in procuring funds and plans, and in deciding upon a site ; conse- 
quently the corner-stone of this structure was not laid until " the 
fifteenth day of August, in the Year of Christ, 1840," as the words 



262 ISCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 

of Lord Jeffrey, inscribed beneath it, record. At that date, con- 
tinues the inscription, the corner stone was " Deposited in the Base 
of a Votive Building," covering a " Graven Plate," that, 

" — never likely to see the light again, 

Till all the surrounding structures are crumbled to dust 

By the decay of time, or by human or elemental violence, 

May then testify to a distant posterity that 

His Countrymen began on that day 

To raise an Effigy and Architectural Monument 

TO THE MEMORY OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 

Whose admirable Writings were then allowed 

To have given more delight and suggested better feeling 

To a larger class of readers, in every rank of society. 

Than those of any other Author, 

With the exception of Shakspeare alone," etc. 

On the 15th of August, 1846, the monument was publicly inaugu- 
rated. The entire cost of it has been over sixteen thousand pounds 
sterling. Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart., was perhaps the chief 
agent in procuring its erection. Subscriptions came from every 
class, and from many places, showing ^100 from Her Majesty the 
Queen, and ^3, Js. from "the poor people of the Cowgate." Out of 
fifty-four plans presented, that by John Mickle Kemp was adopted. 
Mr. Kemp was then a working mechanic, in humble condition, and 
unknown to the world. But he had genuine love for mediaeval 
art, and had studied many examples of it. In about five days he 
drew the plan and design, that, with some modifications, are now 
realized. A curious story is told of his only interview with the 
great man to whose memory his chief, his almost only, creation is 
dedicated. He was, it is said, when a youthful apprentice, walking 
with a heavy basket of tools, during a hot day, from Peebles to 
Selkirk. A carriage, conveying an elderly and plain, yet benevo- 
lent-looking, gentleman was passing him in the same direction, when 
this gentleman, seeing him, offered him a seat with the coachman. 
Kemp mounted to the box and went to Selkirk, and thus took his 
first drive in a gentleman's carriage, and for the only time met the 
great genius with whose name and fame his own were to acquire 
an immortality. 

The foundations of the monument rest upon solid rock fifty-two 
feet below the level of Princes Street ; and its summit is two hun- 
dred feet six inches above that level. The entire superstructure is 
built of fine-grained, mediumly toned, brown sandstone, from Bin- 
ney quarry, in the pointed style developed at Melrose Abbey. 



SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 363 

It is also built in stones. The first consists of a noble groined 
vault, open on four sides and flanked by large, richly decorated, and 
pinnacled turrets. Beneath this arch is a statue nine feet high, cut 
from a single huge block of Carrara marble by John Steell, and 
representing Sir Walter Scott, seated on a rock, and wrapped in a 
shepherd's plaid, holding book and pen, and attended by " Maida " 
lying at his feet. The second story has also a groined vault, en- 
closed however, and forming a small but lofty room, lighted by a 
tall window, filled with brilliant, colored glass, in each of its four 
sides. That to the north bears the figure of St. Andrew ; that 
opposite to it, St. Giles ; that to the east the arms of Scotland, with 
their motto, " Nemo me impune lacessit ; " and that to the west, the 
arms of Edinburgh, inscribed " Nisi Dominus frustra." In this 
room relics of the poet may be kept. Around the exterior of the 
second story, and of that above it, are galleries from which view 
can be had of the elaborate sculpture with which the monument is 
enriched, and, especially from the upper, of the city and its vicinity. 
Fifty-six niches are said to be provided for statues, about a dozen 
of which latter are in position. Among them are " Prince Charlie," 
" The Lady of the Lake," " Dandie Dinmont," " Meg Merrilies," 
and " Dominie Sampson " (who is looking upon the railway beneath 
him, and evidently about to exclaim, — according to his custom, — 
" pro-di-gi-ous ! "). " Meg Dods " of " St. Ronan's," and " Mause 
Headrig" ("Old Mortahty"), also appear. In the architectural 
sculpture are portraits of Scottish personages distinguished in lit- 
erature or history. The material, it is gratifying to observe, 
retains, thus far, a smooth, hard surface (with slight exception), and 
indicates durabihty. Thus pre-eminent, in the very centre of 
his " own romantic town," enduring and majestic, stands this in- 
comparable cross, a worthy shrine of the Wizard of the North, 
whose kind and chivalrous spirit seems enthroned within it, watch- 
ing the places that knew him so well, and warming the hearts and 
cheering the memories of generations as they come after him. 

The many local guides or guide-books will direct travellers, 
with more or less care, to the manifold objects of interest within or 
around Edinburgh. The number of its attractions and remarkables 
is too great to be even enumerated here, and to these authorities 
named explorers must be referred. Places or objects associated 
with Scott may, however, be, at least, mentioned here ; and they 



264 SCOTT'S EDINBURGH. 

are many. If travellers make but one excursion in the environs of 
the town, it should be to Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat, already 
described, and again mentioned in the next chapter in the story 
Scott has associated with them. This excursion should also include 
the whole of the Queen's Drive, an excellent road, two or three 
miles long, encirchng these heights, and commanding views of such 
unusual variety as to render it one of the most remarkable of all 
suburban drives. 

At its entrance from the lower end of the Old Town is perhaps 
the widest-known structure in Scotland, — the combined abbey 
and palace of Holyrood. Many persons who have not visited 
that country, know, indeed, its aspect, — a quadrangle with a 
court-yard having three sides composed of high and rather modern 
buildings, and a fourth side formed by a lower screen, uniting two 
large, ancient, square towers, with pointed-roofed turrets at their 
angles. On the north side of the palace is the gray or blackened, 
decaying abbey. On the main floor of the northern side of the 
palace is the great gallery described in "Waverley," page 145. In 
the large square tower in front of the gallery are the well-known 
apartments once occupied by Mary, Queen of Scots, — an audience 
chamber, bedroom, dressing-room, and supper-room. In the last 
— small, narrow, and rude — Rizzio was attacked. In these older 
portions of Holyrood we may imagine the scenes of " Marmion " 
(page 44), and of Roland Graeme's interview with the Regent Mur- 
ray, or other scenes of " The Abbot " (page 247). 

From Holyrood, the Canongate — associated with sundry famous, 
if fabulous, "Chronicles" — leads to the recesses of the Old Town. 
Among these are many of the localities associated with Scott's 
chief story of Edinburgh, " The Heart of Mid- Lothian," that will 
be sketched in the next chapter. Among these recesses also, in 
" Lady Stair's Close," is the original house of Lady Forester of 
" My Aunt Margaret's Mirror " (chapter xhx). In more open area is 
the princely Jacobean " Heriot's Hospital," nobly suggesting its 
founder, " Jingling Geordie," portrayed in " The Fortunes of 
Nigel " (chapter xliii). At the Castle, that is monumental record 
of many stirring chapters of Scottish history, are, also, not a few 
associations with Sir Walter Scott. 

In the vicinity of Edinburgh many excursions may be made to 
portions of his Lands. Along the sea-coast may be visited North 
Berwick, the Bass Rock, and Tantallon (described in " Marmion." 



''THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN:^ 265 

page 46), and Preston Pans C" Waverley," page 145). South-east 
is Crichton Castle (" Marmion," page 43) ; Carberry Hill (pages 249 
and 258) : and Dalkeith and Lasswade (chapter iv.), from which the 
way of travellers should be to Drummond's Hawthornden, and 
Roslin Glen and Castle and Chapel (page 17). Westward, seven- 
teen miles, is Linlithgow with its palace, "excelling" all other 
Scottish "royal dwelHngs," a story of which is told in " Marmion." 
On the way thither may be seen Niddrie (page 253), where Queen 
Mary rested during the night after her escape from Loch-Leven 
Castle. Nearer town, and in this direction, are Ravelston and 
Craigcrook, interesting old mansions, mentioned on page 141, sup- 
posed prototypes of Tully-Veolan in " Waverley." Another origi- 
nal of the same residence, in this vicinity, is Traquair House, 
Peebles-shire, described in chapter xxxi. Routes for the tour 
southward from Edinburgh are mentioned at the close of the next 
chapter. 



XXX. 

"The Heart of Miu-Lothian." 

Seventh Novel 0/ the Series, ivritten 1S17-18; Published yune, t8i8; 
Author's age, 47 ; Ti7ne of action, 1736-51. 

A LTHOUGH many incidents of this eventful and pathetic story 
-^^- are represented to have occurred in very widely scattered 
places, yet Edinburgh, as the title suggests, is the locality with 
which it is chiefly associated ; indeed, it is peculiarly Scott's story 
of his " own romantic town." In order to visit the scene or the 
site of the earlier portion of its action, one should go to the upper 
part of the High Street. This, among the remarkable streets of 
Europe, is moderately wide, and marks the crest-line of the ridge on 
which stands the Old Town. It leads from the Canongate and a 
great deal of squalor, through general comfort, or even neatness 
and grim picturesqueness, to the Castle. Towards the latter, and 
on the south side of the street, is the church of St. Giles, originally 
cruciform, and a good example of early pointed, and now, although 
altered, an interesting building. It has a conspicuous tower (one 



266 ''THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN^ 

hundred and sixty feet high), crowned by pinnacles and a smal. 
spire borne by flying buttresses. Close to this church, a little in 
front of it, and encroaching upon the street, stood a massive, tur- 
reted, five-storied stone structure of various ages, in which Queen 
Mary and others held parliaments and justiciary courts. At a later 
period the structure served for a prison, once under name of the 
Old Tolbooth, but since, and probably for coming time, distin- 
guished as the "Heart of Mid-Lothian." It was demohshed in 
1 817, after the new castellated prison was built on Calton Hill. 
The entrance door and the huge padlock and key were removed to 
Abbotsford, where they now appear among the many curiosities 
collected by Scott. 

During Tuesday night, Sept. 7, 1736, the main action of the 
story commenced at and near this Tolbooth, in an exciting 
affair that had more than local celebrity. Captain John Porteous, 
of the City Guard (a sort of police), had been pettily insulted 
while, shortly before, conducting the execution of two men for 
what, at that period of the union of Scotland with England, was 
popularly felt the very excusable offence of smuggling. In his pro- 
voked temper, he obliged the troops under his orders to fire upon 
an assembled crowd, and thus several persons were killed or 
wounded. For this conduct he was tried and condemned to death, 
but received reprieve, to the great disgust of the populace. The 
effect of the reprieve became evident upon the night mentioned, 
when a powerful mob, under remarkable organization, took him 
from the Tolbooth and executed him, by hanging, as it was thought 
he ought to be executed. Two persons beside Porteous appeared 
rather prominent in this lynching affair. One was a very active 
leader of the rioters, a young man, disguised as a woman and called 
Wildfire. The other was also a young man, but of very different 
character, — Reuben Butler, a Church probationer, seized by the 
mob to perform the last rites of religion over the doomed captain. 
There was yet another person prominent in the story, but scarcely 
more than introduced at this time, — Efifie Deans, younger daughter 
of Davie Deans, a cow-feeder of St. Leonards (near the Queen's 
Park). She was then confined in the Tolbooth, awaiting trial for 
murder of her own infant child. These three persons, so differ- 
ing, and apparently separated, unite with one of Scott's most admi- 
rable characters, Jeanie Deans, — the simple, heroic, true-hearted 
sister of Efiie, — to develop this story. 



''THE HEART OF MID-LOT HI AN y 26; 

This was founded on a narration that was communicated to the 
author by a friend, and that related to the history of Helen Walker, 
who, in 1786, was, accordin^^ to Mr. Chambers, "a httle, stout- 
looking woman, between seventy and eighty years of age," living 
" by the humblest means of subsistence," in the neighborhood of 
Dumfries. In early hfe she had "charge of a younger sister 
named Tibby (Isabella), whom she endeavored to maintain and 
educate by her own exertions." Sorely to her surprise, this sister 
was arrested and held for trial on a charge of child-murder, and she 
herself was summoned principal witness against her. " The coun- 
sel for the prisoner told Helen that, if she could declare that her 
sister had made any preparation, however slight," or had given her 
any intimation on the subject, that " such a statement would save 
her sister's life," as she was the principal witness against her. 
Helen said, " It is impossible for me to swear to a falsehood ; and, 
whatever may be the consequence, I will give my oath according to 
my conscience." " Isabella was found guilty and condemned; and, 
in removing her from the bar, she was heard to say to her sister, 
' O Nelly ! ye've been the cause of my death ! ' " In Scotland, how- 
ever, '' six weeks must elapse between the sentence and the execu- 
tion." Before a day had passed, Helen, with a suitable document, 
was on her way on foot to London. In her country tartan, she 
there presented herself to John, Duke of Argyle, "who immediately 
procured the pardon she petitioned for, and Helen returned with it 
on foot, just in time to save her sister." Isabella afterwards mar- 
ried the father of her child. Helen Walker, the original of Jeanie 
Deans, "died in the spring of 1791," and was buried in the church- 
yard of Irongrey, near Dumfries. No stone marked her grave 
until 1831, when Scott himself caused a modest monument to be 
erected to her, and inscribed with a beautiful epitaph, his own com- 
position. 

An interesting account of the Porteous mob, and of persons 
in some manner connected with it, introduces the main story of 
" The Heart of Mid- Lothian ; " and to see the scenes associated 
with this, one had best go from the High Street, down the Canon- 
gate, to the Queen's Drive, and ascend the path winding around 
the Salisbury Crags. 

" If," wrote Scott, in the eighth chapter of this novel, " I were to 
choose a spot from which the rising or setting sun could be seec 
to the greatest possible advantage, it would be that wild path wind- 



268 ''THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN'' 

hig around the foot of the high belt of semi-circular rocks, called 
Salisbury Crags, and marking the verge of the steep descent which 
slopes down into the glen on the south-eastern side of the city of 
Edinburgh. The prospect, in its general outhne, commands a 
close-built, high-piled city, stretching itself out beneath in a form, 
which, to a romantic imagination, may be supposed to represent 
that of a dragon ; now, a noble arm of the sea, with its rocks, isles, 
distant shores, and boundary of mountains ; and now, a fair and fer- 
tile champaign country, varied with hill, dale, and rock, and skirted 
by the picturesque ridge of the Pentland mountains. But, as the 
path gently circles around the base of the chffs, the prospect, com- 
posed as it is of these enchanting and sublime objects, changes at 
every step, and presents them blended with, or divided from, each 
other, in every possible variety which can gratify the eye and the 
imagination. When a piece of scenery so beautiful, yet so varied, 
— so exciting by its intricacy, and yet so subhme, — is lighted up 
by the tints of morning or of evening, and displays all that variety 
of shadowy depth, exchanged with partial brilliancy, which gives 
character even to the tamest of landscapes, the effect approaches 
near to enchantment. This path used to be my favorite evening 
and morning resort, when engaged with a favorite author, or new 
subject of study." 

When Scott wrote this graphic description, the path was small 
and neglected ; but soon afterward it was made wide and firm and 
smooth as it may now be found. Certain agitators for political 
changes were employed upon the work, whence it acquired then 
the name of the Radical Road. David Hume, and other writers, 
have, like Scott, used it as a place for mental as well as bodily exer- 
cise. The magnificently colored landscape shown us in the thir- 
tieth stanza of the fourth canto of " Marmion " (and quoted pages 
43, 44), although taken from another point of view, shows the re- 
markable prospect from Salisbury Crags, with wonderful correctness 
and beauty, in Turneresque lines quoted by Mr. Ruskin as an illus- 
tration of Scott's strong and true feeling for color, and of his pow- 
erful and masterly description by it, rather than by the less vivid 
characteristics of form and dimension. 

When one is near the most northern and loftiest portion of the 
path, one gains a view not only of this imposing landscape pictured 
in " Marmion," but also of no small part of the scenery of " The 
Heart of Mid-Lothian." 



''THE HEART OF MID-LOT III AN y 269 

At a short distance south-west from Holyrood may be seen St. 
Leonard's Hill, a low ridge there bounding the Park, A century 
ago it was a retired spot, although the city has now encroached 
upon it. On the east brow of this hill, overlooking the Crags, is a 
low, small, gray stone cottage, with a red tiled roof, and a little cow- 
house built in the same style. The cottage is half sunk in the hill 
behind it. In front of it is a little garden enclosed by a neat haw- 
thorn hedge. This dwelling is popularly designated St. Leonard's 
Crags, the home of David Deans. There his daughter Jeanie lived 
the simple life of a dairy-girl, devoted to its humble labors, and 
10 care of a younger sister, Effie, called from her beauty " The 
Lily of St. Leonard's, a name which she deserved as much by her 
guileless purity of thought, speech, and action, as by her uncom- 
mon loveliness of face and person." " Her Grecian-shaped head 
was profusely rich in waving ringlets of brown hair, which, con- 
fined by a blue snood of silk, and shading a laughing Hebe counte- 
nance, seemed the picture of health, pleasure, and contentment. 
Her brown russet short-gown set off a shape which time, perhaps, 
might be expected to render too robust, the frequent objection to 
Scottish beauty, but which, in her present early age, was slender 
and taper, with that graceful and easy sweep of outline which at 
once indicates health and beautiful proportion of parts." Jeanie 
had, for years, endured the admiration and constant gaze of a 
silent, and not over-witted, small proprietor, — to us the delightfully 
stupid Laird of Dumbiedikes. Efifie was generally admired. At 
length, taking service with a family in town, she lost much of her 
elder sister's care, who knew little the acquaintanceships into which 
she drifted there, and only too late the result of one of them. 
Time wore on, "Effie's cheek grew pale, and her step heavy." 
The good woman with whom she lived became ill, and saw less of 
her. Effie grew paler and sadder meanwhile, until, by plea of 
health, she obtained permission to visit home for a short time. 
" It was afterwards found that a period of a week intervened 
betwixt her leaving her master's house and arriving at St. Leon- 
ard's. She made her appearance before her sister in a state rather 
resembling the spectre, than the living substance of the gay and 
beautiful girl who had left her father's cottage." It was with terri- 
ble effect upon both David and Jeanie, that soon officers of justice 
arrived and apprehended Effie for the appalling crime of child-mur- 
der. While she was consequently confined on this charge in the 
Tolbooth, we first learn of her, durins^ the Porteous riot. 



z^o 



THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN: 



ButJer escaped his remarkable position in that affair, and wan 
dered out among the Salisbury Crags, during many succeeding 
hours. There he discovered, in a remote nook, a young man, 
perhaps twenty-five years old, who wore a morning dress, and 
whose appearance, although dissipated, was yet handsome, and not 
ungentlemanly. The stranger knew him, and gave him peremptory 
direction to seek Jeanie Deans, and let her know that she alone 
must meet the speaker, "at the Hunter's Bog," that night, while 
the moon arose behind " St. Anthony's Hill." Butler, who was a 
rival of the Laird of Dumbiedikes (and though in some respects 
less eligible, a far more active and creditable lover), had thus a 
peculiar mission to Jeanie and her father, both of whom, for reason 
of it, he soon visited. His desire to help his sweetheart's sister 
caused him next to visit Efifie in prison, only to undergo arrest, 
examination, and commitment thereto, upon charge of comphcity 
in the last night's riot. Jeanie, thus deprived of his aid and fur- 
ther counsel, deeming it impolitic to inform her father of the meet- 
ing proposed for her near St. Anthony's, set out alone upon hei 
dark, strange errand to a mysterious man, who in some fearful 
way seemed to possess influence over her sister's fate. She had a 
wild and most exciting walk through the gloom of night, and over 
the desolate park, attended as she was only by vague and dreadful 
fancies of things invisible and supernatural, or criminal, in a dis- 
trict haunted by many associations with all these terrors. She 
reached the place assigned for the ominous conference. It was 
situated in the depth of the valley behind Salisbury Crags, a valley 
that " has for a background the north-western shoulder of the 
mountain called Arthur's Seat," on the north-eastern descent of 
which " still remain the ruins of what was once a chapel or hermitage 
dedicated to Saint Anthony the Eremite," " situated among the rude 
and pathless cHfTs," in a desert, even in the immediate vicinity of a 
populous capital. Beneath the steep ascent to this site was a 
ymall heap of stones marking the spot where a wretch, Nichol 
Muschat, murdered his wife, "with circumstances of uncommon 
barbarity." The Hunter's Bog, mentioned, lying between the 
Crags and Arthur's Seat, is now drained and made a field for 
carget practice. There is yet a heap of stones called Muschat's 
Cairn, near "Jock's Lodge" entrance to the Park. The chapel, 
now presenting a portion of broken walls, and fragments of a 
groined ceiling, built of small, rough stones, was of simple, but 



''THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN:' 27 1 

pleasing pointed style, "43 feet long, 18 broad, and 18 high. At 
its west end was a tower 19 feet square, and about 40 feet high." 
A Hermitage, once attached to it, but now demolished, was de- 
scribed, in 1752, to have been in length " 16 feet 8 inches, in breadth 
12 feet 8, and in height 11 feet." Much more of the chapel existed 
at the time of the tale, than now exists. 

Near these objects courageous Jeanie Deans encountered the 
stranger. He assured her that Efifie's child was murdered, but not 
with Effie's knowledge or assent ; but that Jeanie alone could save 
her sister, and by giving false testimony at the approaching trial. 
He even urged Jeanie so strenuously to commit perjury, that he 
threatened to shoot her if she refused. At this critical moment he 
was interrupted by the approach of police. The city authorities had, 
it appeared, arrested and examined a half-crazed gypsy girl, Madge 
Wildfire ; and her evidence and that of Butler had induced them 
to attempt the arrest of the stranger, at this place of rendezvous. 
The result of attempting, however, was, that he escaped among the 
ruins of the Chapel, and down the hill, and that Jeanie fled home. 

The sad story of the trial of Effie Deans, so powerfully described 
m the novel, and so effectively presented, at its catastrophe, in the 
well-known painting, by Mr. Lauder, need not be sketched here. 
The world knows the fortitude of Jeanie Deans in resisting the 
strongest temptation to commit what she felt a crime, by testifying 
the untruth that Eflie had in any manner apprised her respecting 
the child, although a few false words would save her sister's life. 
The trial consequently ended in the condemnation of Effie to 
death, under a harsh law. The far more cruel trial of principle 
and affection that Jeanie endured was succeeded, as the world also 
well knows, by her noble and devoted efforts and her worthy 
triumph, in accomplishing by honor the liberation that she would 
not secure by criminahty. One of Scott's most exquisite passages 
in prose is his description of the interview in prison between the 
two sisters. Immediately after it, Jeanie was provided by Butler 
with credentials to the Duke of Argyle ; and by the jailer (an old 
thief), with a pass for use among outlaws who then infested the 
roads ; and, by Dumbiedikes, with " siller " (and a less opportune 
and appropriate offer of marriage). She then set out courageously 
to walk to London, and to procure there from the Queen, a pardon 
for her doomed sister. 

Great mystery surrounded the history of Effie's child. The father 



272 " THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAJ^:' 

was scarcely identified. The fate of the child itself could not yet 
be ascertained. But an incident occurred to Jeanie, on the road, 
that assisted to dispel many uncertainties. She had reached the 
vicinity of " Gunnerby Hill about three miles from Grantham," in 
southern Lincolnshire. In this then wild spot, of which she had 
been warned, she was almost overtaken by night, and actually and 
startlingly by two highwaymen, who pitilessly obliged her to leave 
the main road, and who took her to their haunt. At this latter 
place she was enabled to hear much of their talk, and that of two 
strange gypsy women, who, it appeared, were Madge Wildfire and 
her mother Meg. Jeanie, feigning sleep, listened, and discovered 
that these persons not only knew her name, but the object of her 
mission to London, which, to Jeanie's distress, the old woman was 
determined to stop. The reason for interposing thus was that 
Madge was a victim of the same man to whom Effie Deans owed 
her ruin. " And he'll marry this jail-bird if ever she gets her foot 
loose," said the hag ; " and she'll hold my daughter's place, and 
Madge crazed, and I a beggar, and all along of him." So strongly 
indeed was the hag's jealousy excited, that all Jeanie's great cour 
age was required to avoid a fatal interruption to her mission. But 
she listened most anxiously to an allusion made to a child of 
Madge's, and to another, of which one of the robbers said : 
" So Madge, in her daffin' threw it into the Nor'-lock, I trow." 
" Indeed, mother," replied she, "that's a great lie, for I did nae 
sic thing." 

And this hint was all that Jeanie could learn then, but it was 
very suggestive. On the next day, a Sunday, Jeanie, willing to 
encounter any reasonable risk to escape from this den, where it 
appeared she was to be kept, consented to accompany Madge, and, 
secretly take a walk. Thus she was led to a Parish church, into 
which she and her companion entered during service, — the latter 
to show a fantastic assortment of old finery that she crazily wore, 
and Jeanie to effect release from such companionship. Jeanie was 
the more successful ; for Madge was taken in charge by the Beadle, 
while she was conducted by the rector, Mr. Staunton, to his home. 
The church mentioned is in the vale of Belvoir, on the borders of 
Nottinghamshire, and is a handsome structure dedicated to St. 
Mary. The rectory may be supposed to have been Staunton Hall, 
a large and handsome house upon an old estate long held by a fam- 
ily bearing its name. There Jeanie was curiously summoned to a 



''TUE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN^ 273 

private interview by the rector's son, George Staunton, an invalid 
in his chamber. During this interview he confessed that he had 
caused Effie's ruin. Jeanie soon left Grantham, with a guide to 
Stamford, and at length safely reached London, where she abode 
with a friend and relative, Mrs. Glass, a tobacconist at the sign of 
the Thistle, in the Strand. She soon found her way to Argyle 
House, residence of John, the great Duke of Argyle and Green- 
wich, so distinguished in his time, and whose monument is now 
prominent in the South Transept of Westminster Abbey. Argyle 
House, of which little or nothing remains, is said to have been a plain 
structure that stood across the present Argyle Street, near where it 
enters Regent Street. There Jeanie obtained a satisfactory inter- 
view with her exalted countryman, who afterwards took her to the 
garden of the Lodge, in the Great Park at Richmond, where she 
had an audience with Caroline, Queen Consort of George IL, — 
Scott's narration of which, in the thirty-seventh chapter of the 
novel, cannot well be abridged. This Lodge has been taken down 
and the grounds are changed, but the surrounding park contains 
forest and rural scenery seldom surpassed in beauty ; and commands 
that celebrated panoramic prospect over the Thames vale, known 
as the view from Richmond Hill, — one of the most lovely simply 
rural landscapes in the world. The result of these audiences, with 
Queen and Peer, was that Jeanie in due time received assurance 
from the Duke himself, that Effie's pardon had been transmitted 
to Edinburgh. Thither she herself was despatched, in company 
with certain of his servants, and there she witnessed the execution 
of the old gypsy woman Meg ; and, in a hospital, had an interview 
with Madge, who died soon afterwards, but without giving any 
additional clew to the fate of Effie's child. 

If one's position, while reviewing the scenes of this novel, is 
still supposed to be upon Salisbury Crags, one may there, after fol- 
lowing in imagination the route of Jeanie to London, also recall the 
remaining scenery of the story, since it is so scattered, that all of it 
cannot well be visited connectedly. Effie, liberated by the pardon, 
revisited her father's house, but soon disappeared from it. Butler 
became ordained minister of Knocktarlitie, at the head of Gare 
Loch, — one of the beautiful and picturesque salt-water lochs easily 
accessible down the Clyde from Glasgow. At Knocktarlitie he 
married Jeanie Deans, and there they lived and were visited by the 
Duke of Argyle, one of whose family seats, Roseneath, was, and 

18 



274 ''THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN:' 

is, upon the shore of the loch. The Duke then incidentally spoke 
of a Lady Staunton, in London, as "the ruHng belle — the blazing 
star — the universal toast of the winter." Afterward, Jeanie met 
with a confession, by old Meg, declaring that Effie's son was 
not killed. Sending the confession to her sister, she received a 
visit from this same brilliant Lady Staunton, and Sir George 
Staunton, — persons who proved to be her sister, and the father of 
her sister's child. He had married Efiie, and, changing from a 
wild, dissipated, and even outlaw-hfe, had taken a position of high 
respectability, that he had inherited, and to which he had thus 
raised his wife. The continued mystery of the still lost child was 
soon cleared. During an excursion near the manse, Butler and 
Sir George w^ere waylaid by robbers, and the latter was shot by a 
fierce, gypsy-like boy, called "the Whistler," who proved to be his 
own son, — an outcast from birth among the companions of 
old Meg and similar characters. In such a course of life as that in 
which he had been placed, he had recently become aUied with a 
band of robbers. With them he had been attracted by report of 
the presence of a rich Englishman at Knocktarlitie, and with them 
had made this fatal attempt upon one unknown to him, — his own 
father. The wretched boy was arrested ; but, through assistance of 
Jeanie^ he escaped execution, only ultimately to meet a death as 
wild as his life. His widowed mother returned to London society, 
and, " after blazing nearly ten years in the fashionable world, and 
hiding, like many of her compeers, an aching heart with a gay 
demeanor, after declining repeated offers of the most respectable 
kind, for a second matrimonial engagement," retired to severe 
penance and seclusion in a Continental Convent. " Meanwhile," 
Jeanie and her husband, "happy in each other, in the prosperity 
of their family, and the love and honor of all who knew them," 
" lived beloved, and died lamented." 

And Sir Walter closes his masterly composition, with this reflec- 
tion : " Reader, this tale v/ill not be told in vain, if it shall be 
found to illustrate the great truth, that guilt, though it may attain 
temporal splendor, can never confer real happiness ; that the evil 
consequences of our crimes long survive their commission, and, 
like the ghosts of the murdered, for ever haunt the steps of the 
malefactor ; and that the paths of virtue, though seldom those of 
worldly greatness, are always those of pleasantness and peace." 



•' THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN r 275 

There are several places named in the story, and associated witii 
subordinate particulars of it, that have not been described here. 
These are the West Bow and Grassmarket, scenes of the execution 
of Porteous ; the old Ports, or gates, secured by the rioters at that 
time, but now not existing ; Parliament Square, where EfHe Dean's 
trial was ; Portobello, where she disappeared three days after her 
pardon ; Libberton, earlier residence of Reuben Butler ; Peffer 
Mill, three or four miles south of Edinburgh, the supposed resi- 
dence of Dumbiedikes (to be distinguished from a real place thus 
named in the lower part of the old town) ; York, Newark (with its 
Castle), and other places passed by Jeanie during her London 
journey; and some quiet little scenes around the Gare Loch, 
where the latter portion of the action of the novel occurred. 

The route of this tour, southward from Edinburgh, may be first 
to North Berwick, and scenery of " Marmion," near there ; and 
then, from Cockburnspath station, to Fast Castle, on the sea-shore, 
— the "Wolfs Crag," and chief reputed locality of the "Bride 
of Lammermuir," described in chapter thirty-sixth. If this route 
is taken, the places described in the next two chapters must 
be visited during an excursion from Edinburgh. Travellers, by 
whatever route they reach the Eastern Border of Scotland, should 
(and probably will), however, of all regions, select for a visit the 
one most attractive in the lands of Scott, — the one most abound- 
ing in associations with him and with his works, situated about 
forty miles south from Edinburgh, and including Melrose and 
Abbotsford. This region, sometimes called distinctively " The 
Land of Scott," is described in chapters xxxiv. and xxxv. It may 
be conveniently reached during an expedition to scenery of two 
novels sketched in the next two chapters, and of a region famous in 
minstrelsy, forming the subject of the thirty-third chapter. The 
end of this expedition may be at Edinburgh, and thence the route 
may be to England by the coast as already suggested. 



276 ''SAINT EONAN'S WELL." 

XXXI. 

" Saint Ronan's Well," and Ashiestiel. 

Eighteenth Novel of the Series, written 1823; Published December, 1823; 
Author'' s age, 52 ; Time 0/ action^ about 1810. 

/^NE may now ride all the way from Edinburgh to Innerleithen, 
^^ by rail, in an hour and a half or two hours, and find the 
latter a quiet, pretty, and considerably frequented watering-place, 
situated in a wide, meadowy, secluded valley, environed by high, 
green hills, and traversed by the Tweed, there a considerable river. 
Innerleithen is, also, a convenient and pleasant stopping-place from 
which to visit many delightful scenes, several of which are asso- 
ciated with Scott. The place itself, a mere hamlet until the latter 
part of the last century, has become recognized as his " St. Ronan's 
Well," and the place of action of most of this story. Thus ren- 
dered attractive, its healthy climate, the scenery of its environs, 
and its waters (resembling those of Harrowgate, and healing, though 
not delicious, to those unaccustomed to them), have developed it to 
the thriving town and interesting visiting-place one now finds it. 
Sundry woollen-mills also have increased its resources, if not its 
beauty. There is a main street, of rather new, good-looking 
houses, and an older street, extending up a hill-crest to the well, if 
the writer remembers correctly. In the former, was pointed out a 
square, two-story house, built of rough stones, painted slate color, 
with white, cut-stone quoins and window finishings. This house 
was (incorrectly) shown as the Old St. Ronan's Inn, kept by that 
celebrity among landladies. Mistress Meg Dods, — elderly, maiden, 
strong-minded, quick-tempered, strong-prejudiced, and strong- 
armed, — where she did according to her notions of the customs of 
her father before her, and where she anathematized the growing 
rival public-house, that she denominated the " hottel " by the " Spa- 
well." Gilsland Spa is also said to be St. Ronan's Well. 

Mr. Frank Tyrrel opened the action of the story, at this old 
" Cleikum " inn, by appearing and sojourning there. He was a 
young gentleman with affinities to the neighborhood, and a knowl- 
edge of it then mysteriously great. He was soon described at 
the " Spa," and was invited to it ; and thus the mixed company 



''SAINT EONAN'S WELL:' 277 

there assembled became introduced to him and the world ; and the 
author, as he states, was enabled " to display a species of society, 
where the strongest contrast of humorous characters and manners 
may be brought to bear on and illustrate each other with less viola- 
tion of probabihty than could be supposed to attend the same mis- 
cellaneous assemblage in any other situation." Among various 
persons, we learn of Miss Clara Mowbray, heroine of the novel, and 
sister of the " Lord of the manor," Mr. John Mowbray. She in- 
vited the company to her family seat, Shaw's Castle, where, before 
the end of the story, not a few strange incidents occurred. Inves- 
tigation rather perplexes one about the identity of this edifice. It 
is said to be designed from Raeburn, near St. Boswell's Green, 
many miles down the Tweed, and beyond Melrose. But as castel- 
lated structures abound in the vicinity of Innerleithen, the reader 
may possibly prefer right of private judgment, and thus be suited 
in the local habitation of these incidents. The story, to be sure, 
describes this seat as being about three miles from the village ; and 
thus a clew is given to the archaeological explorations of an inquir- 
ing sojourner at the Spa. 

Besides this place, the story is associated with so few distinct 
localities, that it need not be described here, in order to indicate 
or suggest them ; and this chapter may state enough by con- 
ducting the traveller to its general scene, where, if there is a long 
stop, or one of even a day or two, it will be a subject of local 
interest and desirable entertainment. There is, however, one spot 
prominently described in the novel, that will naturally be visited, 
and that may be mentioned here, — the old castle of St. Ronan's, 
that stands " on a rising ground immediately adjoining the village," 
and that, with its works of circumvallation, covers more than an acre. 
An immense quantity of uncemented stones were used in its material 
construction ; but imagination is required to fashion them into quite 
the castle of the story. The curious history of Clara Mowbray, its 
heroine, can there, or in any other place very adapted to reading 
such a history as hers, be found, as the great novelist has told it, 
and as Mr. Lockhart describes it, — one of "the highest efforts of 
tragic romance." 

Along the Tweed, for a considerable distance below Innerleithen, 
is a narrow, pastoral vale, rather more than half a dozen miles 
down which, on the south bank, is Ashiestiel, now a strictly 
private residence. It was occupied by Scott from the earlier part 



2;S ASHIESTIEL 

of 1804 until the end of May, 1812, when he removed to Abbots- 
ford. " A more beautiful situation for the residence of a poet could 
not be conceived," wrote Lockhart. " The house was then a small 
one, but, compared with the cottage at Lasswade, its accommoda- 
tions were amply sufficient. You approached it through an old-fash- 
ioned garden, with holly hedges, and broad, green, terrace walks. 
On one side, close under the windows, is a deep ravine, clothed 
with venerable trees, down which a mountain rivulet is heard, more 
than seen, in its progress to the Tweed. The river itself is sepa- 
rated from the high bank on which the house stands, only by a 
narrow meadow of the richest verdure. Opposite, and all around, 
are the green hills. The valley there is narrow, and the aspect in 
every direction is that of perfect pastoral repose." " There was 
hardly even a gentleman's family within visiting distance." " The 
country all around, with here and there an insignificant exception, 
belongs to the Buccleuch estate ; so that, whichever way he chose 
to turn, the bard of the clan had ample room and verge enough." 
" Ashiestiel," says William Howitt, "occupied as an abode a 
marked and joyous period of Scott's life. He was now a happy 
husband, the happy father of a lovely young family. Fortune was 
smiling on him. He held an honorable, and to him, delightful 
office, that of the Sheriff of the County of Selkirk ; which bound 
him up with almost all that Border ballad country, in which he 
revelled as in a perfect fairy land." "He was acknowledged, 
though Southey, Wordsworth, Campbell, and Coleridge were now 
pouring out their finest productions, to be the most original and 
popular writer of the day." At Ashiestiel he composed " The Lay 
of the Last Minstrel," " Marmion," the " Lady of the Lake," and 
lesser works. " There was to be one fresh and higher flight, even 
by him, that of ' The Great Unknown,' and this was reserved for 
Abbotsford. There the fame of his romances began," " but here 
the sun of his poetic reputation ascended to its zenith. In par- 
ticular, the poem of Marmion will for ever recall the memory and 
the scenery of Ashiestiel. The introductions to the different 
cantos, than which there are no poems in the English language 
more beautiful of their kind, are all imbued with the spirit of the 
place. They breathe at once the solitary beauty of the hills, 
the lovely charm of river, wood, and heath, and the genial blaze of the 
domestic hearth, on which love and friendship, and gladsome spirits 
of childhood, and the admiration of eager visitors to the secluded 
abode of 'The Last Minstrel.' had made an earthly paradise." 



''THE BLACK DWARFr 279 

The house, considerably altered since Scott's time, was made out 
of an old Border tower. "In the room looking down the Tweed, 
a beautiful view, Scott wrote." In his little drawing-room here, at 
least on a single occasion, "he entertained three duchesses at 
once." Revisiting this place in 1826 (after his financial troubles), 
Scott wrote in his diary : " Here I passed some happy years. Did 
I ever pass unhappy years anywhere ? None that I remember, 
save those at the High School, which I thoroughly detested on 
account of the confinement." The estate is charmingly kept, and 
is, or lately was, in possession of a branch of his family. 



XXXII. 

"The Black Dwarf." 

Foiirth Novel 0/ the Series; written 1816; Published December^ 1816; 
A iithor's age, 45 ; Time of action, 1 708. 

TRAVELLERS, while at Innerleithen, can easily visit places 
reputed to have witnessed some of the more important action 
of this story, and by there recalling it, can find not only an appropri- 
ate introduction to the Border Country that they are supposed to 
be approaching, but also agreeable illustration of characteristics of 
the last generation of those turbulent but picturesque persons who 
so pecuharly pertain to that region. Scott, when pubhshing this 
work, attempted, with little success, to divert from himself reputa- 
tion of its authorship, in order to maintain his fancied disguise. It 
appeared as the First Series of the "Tales of my Landlord," and 
was dedicated — 

"To 

His Loving Countrymen 

whether they are denominated 

Men of the South, Gentlemen of the North, 

People of the West, or Folk of Fife ; 

These Tales, 

Illustrative of Ancient Scottish manners, 

and of the 
Traditions of their respective districts, 

are respectfuLy inscribed 

By their friend and liege fellow-subject, 

Jedediah Cleishbotham." 



28o ''THE BLACK DWARF r 

" Harold the Dauntless," by " Walter Scott," was almost simul- 
taneously published ; but this strategy did not render the disguise 
more impenetrable, and the poet generally received the credit due 
"The Great Unknown." 

The opening scene of this story introduces "The Black Dwarf" 
on " Mucklestane Moor," a " dreary common," " in one of the most 
remote districts of the south of Scotland," a tract that can be recog- 
nized as a generic description of much of the wild " Midland Bor- 
der." The Dwarf, called " Elshander the Recluse," or " Cannie 
Elshie," had built there a stone hut, where he lived entirely alone. 
Halbert, or " Hobbie Elliot of the Heugh-foot," a farmer, and the 
young Laird of Earnscliff (the former living in that vicinity) discov- 
ered him one night, while they were returning from a hunt. Think- 
ing him a spirit, they then and afterward watched his movements, 
but their investigations did not immediately dispel the mystery 
attending him. When the season advanced and became more 
genial (as we are told), he sometimes sat outside the door of his 
hut, and thus was one day surprised by a party on horseback. Three 
of the riders — young ladies — succeeded in preventing his retreat ; 
while " the best mounted, best dressed, and incomparably the best- 
looking of the three," began conversation with him. He recognized 
her, — Isabella Vere, daughter of the Laird of Ellieslaw, and thus 
he began to make us acquainted with one of the secrets of the 
story. She soon departed with the company in which she came. 
In this was "a dark, stiff, and stately Sir Frederick Langley," a 
great favorite with her father, but not the least with her. Never- 
theless, for some strange reason, he was her companion and suitor ; 
and she seemed doomed to become his bride. The party with 
which she was riding, after travelling over a rough country, came 
duly to the castle of her father, named like his title, Ellieslaw. 

The original of this structure is said, by the wise, to be Traquair 
House, seat of the Earl of Traquair, across the river from Inner- 
leithen ; and if so, one, when at " St. Ronan's," may read pleasantly 
this story of its older stirring and picturesque times. 

"Traquair House or Palace" "as it is sometimes called," says 
Chambers, " received its present character from John, first Earl, 
since whose time httle has been done." " Originally it was nothing 
more than a border tower," to which have been added "edifices of 
the reign of Charles I." It stands " at the head of a green meadow, 
tvhere it rises amid the trees with its back towards the river." The 



''THE BLACK DWARF:' 28 1 

front (three or four stories high, capped by a heavy roof and 
" pepper-box " turrets) " faces southward," along a broad avenue. 
This terminates in a "gateway" flanked by two heavy square posts^ 
each surmounted by a bear in stone, executed in 1747, thought to 
suggest Tully Veolan in " Waverley," and the multitudinous bears 
of the Barons of Bradwardine. " The walls of the house are of 
great thickness and the accommodation is that of a past age. The 
Hbrary contains an interesting collection of books." 

The place recalls the lines by James Hogg, — " Over the hills to 
Traquair ; " and a neighboring stream also recalls those by Rev. 
James Nichols, — "Where Quair rins sweet amang the flouirs," 
while one of the older of Scottish ballads sings of the forest of 
birches once here. The forest was, long ago, reduced to a few 
trees, and is now represented almost wholly by modern growths, 
Crawford's "Bush aboon Traquair" is another metrical flower of 
its poetic garland. 

So celebrated, indeed, is the place for its charms, and in local 
poetry, that another bard of this region, Dr. Pennecuik, has written 
the assertion, that, — 

" On fair Tweedside, from Berwick to the Bield, 
Traquair, for beauty, fairly wins the field : ' 

So many charms, by nature and by art. 
Do there combine to captivate the heart, 
And please the eye, with what is fine and rare. 
Few other seats can match with sweet Traquair." 

An anecdote, related in the Third Part of the " Minstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border," respecting an Earl of this House, illustrates curi- 
ously the times " of the very last Border freebooter of any note, — 
William Armstrong, called also " Christie's Will." The Earl, when 
once at Jedburgh, procured release of this worthy from confinement 
for horse-stealing. " Some time afterward a lawsuit, of importance 
to Lord Traquair, was to be decided at the Court of Session" 
(Edinburgh) ; " and there was every reason to beheve that judgment 
would turn upon the voice of the presiding judge, who has a casting 
vote, in case of an equal division among his brethren. The opinion 
of the president was unfavorable to Lord Traquair ; and the point 
was, therefore, to keep him out of the way when the question should 
be tried. In this dilemma, the Earl had recourse to Christie's Will ; 
who, at once, offered his service to kidnap the president. Upon due 
scrutiny, he found it was the judge's practice frequently to take the 



282 ^'THE BLACK DWARF:' 

air, on horseback, on the sands of Leith, without an attendant. In 
one of these excursions, Christie's Will, who had long watched his 
opportunity, ventured to accost the president, and engage him in 
conversation." He thus succeeded in decoying him to a lonely 
spot, muffling him in a large cloak, and, by unfrequented paths, 
bearing him to the Tower of Graham, in Annandale, near Moffat, 
where he imprisoned him until the lawsuit was decided in favor of 
Lord Traquair. Will was then "directed to set the president at 
liberty ; " and the latter, accordingly, was replaced on the sands of 
Leith, so cunningly that many years elapsed before he was able to 
learn the mode of his abduction, — both he and his friends, mean- 
while, being persuaded that it was effected by witchcraft. A clever 
ballad describes this lively affair. 

There is another specimen of the " Minstrelsy of the Scottish 
Border," relating to a fight said to have taken place near Traquair 
in an adventure of a Lord Lochinvar, " Out frae the Enghsh Bor- 
der," very hke that told in " Marmion." The ballad is entitled 
" Katherine Janfarie," — " a weel-far'd may," " courted by mony 
men." 

Miss Vere was left at home with the " dark " Sir Frederick whom 
she detested, and with her mysterious father (for he grew stranger 
on acquaintance). Meanwhile, incidents elsewhere illustrate the 
social life of the times. 

Hobble Elliot had, somehow, given real or pretended offence to 
a very wild neighbor, " Willie of Westburnflat ; " an example of the 
last of the Border Reivers, who demonstrated his sentiments by 
burning Hobble's house and barns, and by carrying off — beside les- 
ser plunder of cattle — Grace Armstrong, an extremely nice girl to 
whom Hobble was soon to be married. Hobbie, with friends and 
allies, was soon seeking his lost treasure, at Willie's stronghold. 
This was an example of the style of structures inhabited by the 
"gentlemen " who practised such expressions of feehng, structures 
of which many remains continue to exist through the Border Coun- 
try. The one here described is considered Goldieland, a well- 
known "peel" standing on a bank overlooking the road southwest 
from Hawick, and not far from Branxholm Castle of " The Lay of 
the Last Minstrel." "The tower," says the story, "was a small 
square building of the most gloomy aspect. The walls were of great 
thickness ; and the windows, or slits which served the purpose of 
windows, seemed rather calculated to afford the defenders the means 



''THE BLACK DWARF.'' 2 S3 

of employing missile weapons, than for admitting air or light to the 
apartments within. A small battlement projected over the walls on 
every side, and afforded farther advantage of defence by its niched 
parapet, within which arose a steep roof, flagged with gray stones. 
A single turret at one angle, defended by a door studded with huge 
iron nails, rose above the battlement, and gave access to the roof 
from within, by the spiral staircase which it enclosed." From this 
turret, Hobbie saw a fair hand wave a handkerchief Summons to 
the garrison, brief siege, and parley for terms ensued, when Willie 
agreed to deliver up the young lady, whom he at length confessed 
he held prisoner. To the astonishment of the besiegers, he pro- 
duced Miss Vere, and protested that he held no other. Hobbie and 
his allies retired, to make the best of this unexpected result ; one 
quite as good as could be, it appeared, however, when Grace was 
discovered at the Heugh-foot, released voluntarily by the predatory 
Wilhe. But strange as these affairs seemed, they were less strange 
than those that occurred at Ellieslaw Castle. 

On the day before this raid, Mr. Vere had caused his daughter to 
accompany him during a walk to a lonely portion of his estate, she 
fancying that he thus intended opportunity for a quiet and effective 
argument towards the suit of Sir Frederick. But while thus away 
from the castle, they were suddenly beset by four armed men, two 
of whom engaged Mr. Vere and a single servant attending him, 
while the others seized Miss Vere, and hurried away on horseback. 
Meanwhile, Mr. Vere fell. Both the fighting robbers then retreated 
precipitately. The servant found that his master had simply stum- 
bled, and was unwounded ; but no little time was lost before pursuit 
of the abductors was organized from the castle, and then it was 
directed towards EarnscHff Tower, seat of a family between whom 
and Mr. Vere a feud existed. The young laird of this family, ob- 
noxiously to Mr. Vere, presumed to cherish attachment to his 
daughter; and she, quite as obnoxiously, in private reciprocated it. 
Of course Mr. Vere's party found nothing, having gone quite in an 
opposite direction from that taken by the robbers. The original of 
Earnscliff is said to be Garvald Tower, a few miles rather south 
of Linton station in Haddingtonshire, and a rather entire and ro- 
mantic Baronial relic, picturesquely situated and illustrated in 
Scott's " Border Antiquities." 

After explorations had been ingeniously made in every direction 
except the right, Mr. Vere at length assented to a proposition by 



2S4 ''THE BLACK DWARF." 

friends, to go that way, and then young Earnscliff was encountered 
attending Miss Vere. The affectionate father's first impulse was 
to display this obvious proof of his own expressed hypothesis, that 
Earnscliff had abducted her. But the hypothesis was not much 
conlirmed by immediately subsequent revelations. Out of this not 
publicly explicable affair Miss Vere got safely back to EUieslaw 
and additional attentions from Sir Frederick Langley. Many guests, 
almost entirely masculine, arrived ; and among them, oddly enough, 
the bold proprietor of Westburnflat Tower. There was a great 
deal of eating and drinking, and of very private conversation, lead- 
ing into evidence of a conspiracy of the Jacobite party for a rising 
in favor of the " Pretender," Prince James Francis Edward. The 
plots of this party were favorites with Scott, since they gave him 
many romantic and historical subjects for his pictures, as one read- 
ily remembers, " Redgauntlet " relates to the last of the attempts 
ojf the Stuarts to regain their forfeited crown ; " Waverley " to that 
of 1745 ; "Rob Roy" to that of 1715 ; while this relates to efforts 
that were made previous to the great " affair " in the last-named year. 
The action of the remainder of the story was almost entirely at 
EUieslaw Castle ; and as it is described in only five not very long 
chapters, it may readily be traced ; and with quite enough interest, 
for these chapters contain the continued history of that strange old 
house ; of the results of plotting and treasons hatched in it ; of the 
career of Mr. Vere and Sir Frederick Langley ; and more especially 
of what came to young Earnscliff, and to Miss Vere, when, in the 
chapel of her father's castle, she was forced to meet Sir Frederick, 
her detested, at the marriage service, and when the hitherto almost 
entirely mysterious person giving name to the novel effectively 
appeared in his own name and right, and, after important attention 
to the proposed bride, and exposure of snares and secrets around 
her, as effectively disappeared. All these fortunes, and a ramble 
among the pleasant places where they are supposed to have been 
developed, certainly can but satisfy one with spending the short 
time required for gaining acquaintance with the times, the story, 
and the scenes of " The Black Dwarf." 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. 3S5 

XXXIII. 

The Midland Border. 

'THRAVELLERS from Innerleithen to the " Land of Scott," can 
•*• easily make an excursion through the district sometimes 
named the Midland Border, and visit scenes described in several 
passages of Scott's works, and almost everywhere invested with 
the charms of ballad and memorial poetry. Private conveyance 
of some sort is necessary. The route is up the vale of Quair 
Water, and across the hills to the " Gordon Arms " Inn, and thence 
up the Yarrow to the Loch of the Lowes, at the head of St. Mary's 
Loch, about sixteen miles distant from Innerleithen (described on 
page 192). Thence travellers may turn back and go down the vale 
of Yarrow to Selkirk and Melrose, or, across the hills and vales to 
Hawick, and thence by rail to Melrose. Both these excursions 
lead through the very heart of the romantic, legendary, and storied 
pastoral districts of the Border. 

No words describe better one's thoughts about the celebrated 
Yarrow than Wordsworth's three well-known poems. After one 
passes the rather lonely country of the Quair, and at the " Gordon 
Arms " first looks upon the vale that there opens on either side, 
one may exclaim with him in his Hnes written when this scene had 
been " Unvisited," 

" What's Yarrow but a river bare, 
That ghdes the dark hills under? 
There are a thousand such elsewhere 
As worthy of your wonder." 

And perhaps even the traveller may recall others of those lines, 
and feel that it might have been well to have kept unrealized a 
vision of fancy hke that apt to be associated with this vale as with 
other spots unseen by the eyes, but in imagination pictured scenes 
of earth's most eloquent beauty, — 

" Enough if in our hearts we know 

There's such a place as Yarrow." 
" We have a vision of our own ; 

Ah 1 why should we undo it ? " 
" Should life be dull, and spirits low, 

'Twill soothe us in our sorrow, 
That earth has something yet to show. 

The bonny holms of Yarrow ! " 



2S6 THE MIDLAND BORDER. 

And if Wordsworth himself could commence his " Yarrow Visited 
as he did, uninspired mortals may with him continue saying, - 

"And is this — Yarrow? — This the stream 
Of which my fancy cherished 
So faithfully, a waking dream ? 
An image that hath perished ! " 

But, before this region is left, one of feeling will exclaim in the 
final words of the poet, — peculiarly the poet of nature, — 

" I see — but not by sight alone, 

Loved Yarrow, have I won thee : — " 
"The vapors linger round the Heights, 

They melt — and soon must vanish ; 
One hour is theirs, nor more is mine — 

Sad thought, which I would banish, 
But that I know, where'er I go. 

Thy genuine image, Yarrow ! 
Will dwell with me to heighten joy, 

And cheer my mind in sorrow." 

Or, again, one may recall Washington Irving's thoughts when first 
gazing upon this Border scenery. " I beheld a mere succession of 
gray waving hills," he wrote, "monotonous in their aspect, and so 
destitute of trees, that one could almost see a stout fly walking 
along their profile." Yet, withal, he farther tells how this scenery 
finally charmed him. 

The excursion proposed to this portion of the Border, touches, 
as will be noticed, the northward route of the tour at St. Mary's 
Loch, whose wild and lonely, yet strangely fascinating, scenery has 
already been partly described in the twenty-second chapter in a 
sketch of its many associations with the Covenanters, to whom 
this scenery will always be an eloquent memorial. 

One can now, more perceptibly, feel not only the spirit of the 
region itself, but also feel how the mountainous wilds westward 
seem filled with forms and memories of those persecuted and mar- 
tyred worthies who there endured heroically or suffered sadly for 
conscience' sake. One can there remember a bride like Mary 
Stewart crazed on her wedding morning when she saw her husband 
murdered ; an almost weird Renwick preaching among the mists ; 
or a true-hearted girl like Keatie, of Chapelhope, enduring obloquy 
that she might help him whose hunted life was one of those origi- 
nating the popular invention of supernatural beings said to hauni 
so many spots in this Border land, — that Brownie of Bodsbeck, so 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. 2S7 

mysterious and yet so real, of whom more persons might read 
with interest than perhaps now read. 

Throughout the country eastward and southward from the Loch 
of the Lowes, almost all the associations are different. In those 
directions He (as mentioned on page 192), not the land of the Cov- 
enanter, but of the Reiver and the raid, — just as Scottish and 
characteristic, but very different in style of life. And one is sup- 
posed to explore these latter regions by starting from the hospitali- 
ties of Tibby Shiels. Southward from that snug place one at first 
sees, curving towards one, hills that rise abruptly, bare and grassy ; 
and opposite to them others more receding, bearing grass on some 
parts, but examples of heather and whin-grown Border heights, 
rather than of those that are smooth and pastoral. Between these 
ranges of hills, and yet more noticeable, extend the lonely yet beau- 
tiful waters of St. Mary's Loch, that delightfully suggests Scott's 
graphic and charming lines in his Introduction to the Second Canto 
of " Marmion : " 

" lone Saint Mary's silent lake, 
Thou know'st it well, — nor fen, nor sedge, 
Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; 
Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink 
At once upon the level brink ; 
And just a trace of silver sand 
Marks where the water meets the land. 
Far in the mirror, bright and blue. 
Each hill's huge outline you may view ; 
Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare, 
Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there, 
Save where, of land, yon slender line 
Bears thwart the lake the scatter'd pine. 
Yet even this nakedness has power. 
And aids the feeling of the hour : 
Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, 
Where living thing conceal'd might lie ; 
Nor point, retiring, hides a dell. 
Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell ; 
There's nothing left to fancy's guess. 
You see that all is loneliness : 
And silence aids — though the steep hills 
Send to the lake a thousand rills." 

And one may continue saying with Wordsworth,— 

" Nor have these eyes by greener hills 
Been soothed, in all my wanderings. 
And, through her depths. Saint Mary's Lake 

Is visibly delighted : 
For not a feature of those hills 

Is in the mirror slighted " 



2SS TEE MIDLAND BORDER. 

Or a Scotsman, with the patriotic Dr. Leitch's apostrophe, may say 
in passing, — 

" Sweet Lake ! I ne'er again may see 

Thy sunny bosom glowing, 
Nor e'er beneath her mountain green 

Behold the Yarrow flowing ; 
But when my spirit freed shall be, 

If I on earth mugt tarry, 
I'll seek the lofty hills that crown 

Thy lovely shores, Saint Mary ! " 

Every nook of the land seems to bear poetic flowers, and to be 
garlanded with them as with its own indigenous heather. First, 
one sees the new statue to "James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd," 
and can read beneath it, that — 

" Oft had he viewed, as morning rose, 
The bosom of the lonely Lowes ; 
Oft thrilled his heart at close of even. 
To see the dappled vales of heaven. 
With many a mountain, moor, and tree, 
Asleep upon the Saint Mary." 

Farther eastward, one sees, to the left, the glen of the Megget, 
penetrating gloomy and very wild highlands. There were once 
royal hunting lodges, that, with the country around, were scenes 
of famous sport. 

" Of such proud huntings many tales 
Yet linger in the lonely dales. 
Up pathless Ettrick, and on Yarrow, 
Where erst the outlaw drew his arrow." 

About a mile from the Loch, up this glen, is the ruinous Hender- 
land Tower, where Percy Cockburn, its proprietor, and a noted 
freebooter, was summarily hanged over his own door by James V. 
" The Lament of the Border Widow " is upon this event, his wife 
singing,— 

" Nae living man I'll love again, 
Since that my lovely knight is slain ; 
Wi' ae lock o' his yellow hair 
I'll chain my heart for evermair." 

A little way farther along the Loch was the old Forest Kirk of 
St. Mary's. As Scott wrote, — 

" though in feudal strife a foe 
Hath laid our Lady's chapel low. 
Yet still beneath the hallow'd soil 
The peasant rests him from his toil. 
And, dying, bids his bones be laid 
Where erst his simple fathers pray'd." 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. 289 

Within this kirk, remote as it is, at least one important meeting 
has occurred. An old poem, relating to Sir *A''illiam Wallace, guar- 
dian of the kingdom, informs us that, — 

" At Forest Kirk a meetyng ordand he ; 
Thai chesd Wallace Scottis wardand to be " 

There expiatory offerings were made, and atonement for rapme 
and crime was sought. In the little church-yard many bold riders 
were buried, and, since other fighting times, not a few Covenanters 
As a rather irreverent ballad states, — 

" St. Mary's Loch lies slumbering still, 

But St. Mary's kirk-bell's lang dune ringing! 
There's naething now but the grave-stane hill 
To tell o' a' their loud Psalm-singing I " 

There, also, were interred " Lord William and Fair Margaret " of 
"The Douglas Tragedy," — the chief scenery of which is farther 
eastward. 

" Lord William was buried in St. Marie's kirk 
Lady Marg'ret in Marie's quire ; 
Out o' the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose, 
And out o' the knight's a brier." 

The church-yard is also celebrated in Hogg's ballad " Mess John, 
relating to John Binram, — 

" That wizard priest whose bones are thrust 
From company of holy dust," 

and buried outside the enclosure. Another of Hogg's ballads, 
" Mary Scott," is associated with this place. In the chapel, she, 
the " forest flower," strangely awoke from supposed death to be 
" borne a bride to Torwoodlee." 

" A foot so light, a form so meet, 

Ne'er trode Saint Mary's lonely lea ; 
A bride so gay, a face so sweet, 
The Yarrow braes shall never see." 

The verses that crown the spot are, indeed, more numerous than 
even the memorial stones. One more quotation of them, from 
another poem by Hogg, may be sufficient here to tell its history, — 

" O lone St. Mary of the waves, 

In ruin lies thine ancient aisle. 
While o'er thy green and lowly graves 

The moorcocks bay, and plovers wail ; 

But mountain spirits on the gale, 
Oft o'er thee sound the requiem dread, 

And warrior shades and spectres pale 
Still linger by the quiet dead. 



2go THE MIDLAND BORDER. 

Yes, many a chief of ancient days 
Sleeps in thy cold and hallow'd soil ; " — 
" Here lie those who, o'er flood and field, 
Were hunted as the osprey's brood ; 
Who braved the power of man, and sealed 
Their testimonies with their blood." 

Across the lake (on the southern side) is the mountainous Bower- 
hope Law, also celebrated by Hogg, in the lines, — 

" But winter's deadly hues shall fade. 

On moorland bald and mountain shaw, 
And soon the rainbow's lovely shade 
Sleep on the breast of Bowerhope Law." 

Hogg also relates a story of a farmer who lived on it, and a water- 
goblin that lived in the lake. To the left of the traveller's road, 
near the end of the loch, stands Dryhope Tower, the early home 
of Mary Scott, the " Flower of Yarrow," daughter of Philip Scott, 
and wife of a furious admirer, Walter Scott of Harden, a noted gen- 
tleman freebooter. Allan Ramsay composed in her honor a song 
in which are the lines (sung to an old local air that bears hei 
name), — 

"looking o'er the rolls of fate 
Did you there see, mark'd for my marrow, 
Mary Scott, the Flower of Yarrow? " 

"I'll not despair: 
My Mary's tender as she's fair ; 
Then I'll go tell her all my anguish. 
She is too good to let me languish ; 
With success crowned, I'll not envy 
The folks who dwell above the sky, 
When Mary Scott's become my marrow, 
We'll make a paradise in Yarrow." 

Two other songs also celebrate her. — one of them saying, — 

" forgetting sorrow, 
I wandered owre the braes of Yarrow, 
Till then, despising beauty's power, 
I kept my heart my own secure ; 
But Cupid's dart did then work sorrow, 
And Mary's charms on braes of Yarrow." 

Dr. Leyden, in his " Scenes of Infancy," relates the story of a 
child, captured by Walter of Harden, the husband of Mary Scott, 
who is said to have become a ballad poet, and 

Who "lived o'er Yarrow's Flower to shed the tear. 
To strew the holly leaves o'er Harden's oier." 



THE 3IIDLAND BORDER. 291 

In later times, this lady's romantic title was borne by Mary Lilias 
Scott, of whom verses are, or were, sung (to the air " Tweedside "), 
beginning — "What beauties does Flora disclose." 

Farther eastward, two miles to the left, up Douglas Burn, is 
Blackhouse, chief scene of " the ballad of ' The Douglas Tragedy,' 
one of the few to which popular tradition has ascribed complete 
locality," according to the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border." 
It is a wild, solitary glen. Opposite to its opening, and at some 
distance south of the route of this excursion, is James Hogg's 
home, "Altrive Lake," where he died in 1835. Not far beyond 
(and six miles from Tibby Shiels), is the Gordon-Arms Inn, and, 
beside it, the road over which the traveller is supposed to have 
come from Innerleithen. Lower down Yarrow dale, not far from the 
traveller's road, was Hogg's other home, " Mount Benger," where 
he hved less time. About four miles beyond these places, and 
upon a hill-side near Yarrow Kirk, is the scene associated with that 
famous old ballad, " The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow." The hero of 
the tragic affair it describes was a brave knight, — a Scott, — said 
to have been of Kirkhope. He once, according to the ballad, de- 
Darted from home, saying to his lady, — 

" O fare ye weel, my ladye gaye I 

fare ye weel, my Sarah 1 

For I maun gae, though I ne'er return 
Frae the dowie banks o' Yarrow." 

He went to his death, and his lady mourned him " wi' a sigh " that 
"her heart did break," — 

" A fairer rose did never bloom 

Than now lies cropp'd on Yarrow." 

This ballad suggests another more recent composition, by Mr. 
Hamilton, of Bangour, that it is, indeed, said to have inspired, — 

" Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny bride, 
And think nae mair on the Braes of Yarrow. 
Where gat ye that bonny, bonny bride? 
Where gat ye that winsome marrow? 

1 gat her where I dare nae weil be seen 
Pu'ing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow." 

The influence of the scenery in this vicinity is said to have origi- 
nated, with Wordsworth, much of his three poems relating to Yar- 
row, especially the last, — "Yarrow Revisited," — when in Septem- 
ber, 1831, he accompanied Sir Walter Scott through the country, 



292 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. 



described only the day before the latter left Scotland for Italy. 
How earnestly, but how sadly in vain, he invoked health and happi- 
ness for his great companion ; and how eloquently, poetically, and 
truthfully he addressed Scott in the verses, — 

" For Thou upon a hundred streams, 
By tales of love and sorrow. 

Of faithful love, undaunted truth, 

Hast shed the power of Yarrow ; 
And streams unknown, hills yet unseen. 

Wherever they invite thee, 
At parent Nature's grateful call. 

With gladness must requite Thee. 

" Flow on forever, Yarrow Stream 1 

Fulfil thy pensive duty. 
Well pleased that future bards should chant 

For simple hearts thy beauty ; 
To dream -light dear while yet unseen, 

Dear to tlie common sunshine ; 
And dearer still, as now I feel. 

To memory's shadowy moonshine." 

About three miles beyond the kirk is Hangingshaw, the site of 
the ancient baronial castle of the " Outlaw Murray," that, destroyed 
during the latter part of the last century, now presents only frag- 
ments. The ballad " Sang of the Outlaw Murray " tells how 
royally he ruled in his domains, where he entertained even the 
king. 

Many other poems, less known, are also associated with this 
romantic stream. Among them are Logan's " Thy braes were 
bonnie, Yarrow stream ; " Macdonald's " Yarrow Vale," and the 
" Yellow-haired Laddie ; " " Willie's drowning in Yarrow ; " Mr. 
Scott Riddell's song, " The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow ; " Professor 
Wilson's poetic prose, "We called thee, Yarrow, the Beloved of 
Bards of Old ! " All these, and other poems, have their local at- 
tractiveness ; but all pale their lesser lights before one, far greater 
and more brilliant, shining from beyond, — the first of the works of 
the " latest " Minstrel of Newark Tower, to which the traveller by 
this route is supposed to be approaching. And all other interest 
around it becomes little indeed before the fame and the influences 
of the first magic spell sung by that Minstrel, when, with his Lay, 
he spread the Great Magician's charms over the Border Lands 
around Newark, and revived their former people and their stirring 
life. 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. , 293 

One crosses the Yarrow into the pleasant grounds of "sweet 
Bowhill," and then soon arrives at "Newark's ancient pile" "re- 
nowned in Border story," and among the scenes described fully in 
the fifth chapter, in which the scenery and action of the " Lay " are 
sketched. That chapter informs how a traveller, if omitting this 
excursion to Innerleithen and St. Mary's Lake, may go directly 
from Edinburgh to Selkirk and Newark. After leaving Newark, 
the traveller bound on either excursion may go to Selkirk, and 
through more of this Midland Border Country, into, par excellence, 
The Land of Scott, around Melrose and Abbotsford. 

On the way to Selkirk and close to Newark, one may see across 
the river the cottage of Mungo Park, the traveller in Africa, and — 
after passing through the pleasant grounds and by the ducal man- 
sion of Bowhill — Philiphaugh, seat of the Murrays, descendants 
of the "outlaw" celebrated in ballad literature, and site of portion 
of the battle named from it. The spot was occupied by a camp of 
the great Marquis of Montrose, who, in September, 1645, was 
moving southward towards England, after he had achieved memo- 
rable successes in Scotland. While he was writing despatches at 
Selkirk, his army was surprised here and routed by the Parhamen- 
tary and Presbyterian forces under Sir David Leslie ; and thus 
ended the splendid military career of the great royaHst. There is 
an old song, " Lesly's March," not always very piously worded, ad- 
dressed to another Presbyterian corps, — 

" March ! March ! 

Why the devil do ye na march ? 

Stand to your amis, my lads, 

Fight in good order ; " 
"The parliament's blythe to see us a' coming: " etc 

There is also a ballad about the battle, commencing, — 

" On Philiphaugh a fray began, 
At Hairhead-wood it ended ; 
The Scots out o'er the Graemes they ran, 
Sae merrily they bended." 

It is a Presbyterian ballad-song of triumph over "great Montrose, 
our cruel enemy." Another ballad, " The Gallant Grahams," is a 
lament over his fall, styling him, — 

" Gallant Montrose, that chieftain bold, 
Courageous in the best degree." 

A monument designates the most important portion of the field, 
that where the battle was decided. Nearly opposite Philiphaugh. 



294 . ^^^ MIDLAND BORDER. 

at the confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow, is the Carter- 
haugh, the supposed scene of the fairy ballad " Tamlane," and of 
Scott's song " on the lifting of the Banner of the House of Buc- 
cleuch at a great football match on Carterhaugh." 

Three miles of good road leads to the clean and rather pretty 
town of Selkirk, standing high on the south side of Ettrick. 
There, after the excursion just sketched, — example of one only of 
the excursions into romance-land, easily practicable in a single day 
from Scott's home at Abbotsford, — there, at Selkirk, one may 
pause briefly, certainly long enough to see the statue in front of the 
court-house, and to do one's heart good by looking upon him whom 
it portrays, and by reading the inscription on the pedestal, stating 
that it was 

"ERECTED IN AUGUST, 1839, 

IN PROUD AND AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE 

OF 

SIR WALTER SCOTT, BARONET, 

SHERIFF OF THIS COUNTY 

FROM 1800 TO 1832. 

"by yarrow's stream still let me stray, 
though none should guide my feeble way, 
still feel the breeze down ettrick break, 
although it chill my withered cheek." 

On another side are Scott's arms and mottoes, " Parabit cornua 
Phoebe," and " Watch Weel ; " and elsewhere thistle-wreaths, the 
Virgin and Child, and the sculptor's name, " Alex. H. Ritchie, 
Musselburgh." There is also at Selkirk a statue to Mungo Park. 
From this town there are a variety of routes to Melrose, only about 
half a dozen miles distant down the river, — Abbotsford being 
about half way. Travellers are, however, advised to go less di- 
rectly, and visit the scenes of the " Lay," and of many Border 
forays. 

Up the Vale of Ettrick, and south-west from Selkirk, may be 
found a long reach of pastoral country, varied by several places 
of interest. A few miles up, is Oakwood Tower, sometime resi- 
dence of Michael Scott, that wizard of power who " cleft the Eildon 
Hill in three ; " whose magic book had such influence in the story 
of the " Lay." Farther on are the rough, boggy pastures, consti- 
tuting " the lands of William of Deloraine," the stout rider, who 
sought the " book of might " at Melrose, and bore it to the Lady of 
Branksome. And yet farther up, stands Tushielaw Tower, once 



THE MIDLAND BORDER. 395 

stronghold of Adam Scott, who was so bold as to be called the 
King of Thieves ; and of whom strange tales remain. Thence, to 
the left, extends the vale of " lonely Rangleburn," penetrating in that 
direction ranges of vast heights rising all around. Beyond, is the 
" clench," where, as a ballad tells, a " buck " was killed ; and thus 
was created the titular name of one of the greatest dukedoms of 
Britain, — the Buccleuch ; and beyond the Rangle, — a trout stream 
associated with the ballad " Maid of the Rankle Burn^" — lies 
Borthwick Valley. One will have realized the meaning of "border 
wilds " after passing, through these places, miles of high or low, 
undulating, grassy hills, varied only by patches of whin bushes. 
No hedge confines the narrow road or the wide country, neither 
does a house intrude. All the region is one immense, open sheep 
pasture. To the left, on the way to Hawick, is " Wat' of Harden's 
Den," situated on a bank at the head of a deep, contracted, wooded 
glen. It is a long, narrow house, known in the " Lay," and home of 
Mary Scott, Flower of Yarrow, after she married its reiving Laird. 

A brief turn aside into Teviot dale, leads to Branxholm Castle, 
described in chapter v., represented to be the scene of much of the 
story of the " Lay." A mile back, towards Hawick, may be seen, 
on high ground, near the confluence of the Borthwick and Teviot, 
and commanding good views of the vales of both, the russet-gray 
ruin of the Tower of Goldielands. It is without gables or parapet 
now, and stands among the haystacks and buildings of a farm. It 
was an unpeaceful enough place in its old days, however, as its 
reputed associations with WiUie of Westburnflat in the " Black 
Dwarf" (page 282) illustrate. The region around it, and higher up 
the vale, and at Harden's Den, is, with its raiding people of old, 
celebrated in the long ballad, " Jamie Telfer of the Fair Dodhead." 

Two or three miles down the Teviot is Hawick, a not uninter- 
esting town, with an odd, good, old inn, — The Tower, — that 
includes the former stronghold of the barons of Drumlanrig, after- 
wards occupied by Anne, Duchess of Monmouth and Buccleuch, so 
well known. From Hawick is a railway to Melrose. 



396 ''THE LAND OF SCOTTy 

XXXIV. 

"The Land of Scott." 

'T^HE capital of the district peculiarly " The Land of Scott " may 
-■- be considered Melrose, — a neat, pretty, and rather quaint 
town, deserving more attention than fugitive tourists are apt to give 
it. They should remember what Scott said to Washington Irving : 
" You must not think our neighborhood is to be read in a morn- 
ing, like a newspaper. It takes several days of study for an observ- 
ant traveller that has a relish for auld-world trumpery." A couple 
of sunshiny days can certainly be rendered very delightful there. 
Of course one^s first visit will be to the venerable ruins of the 
famous abbey that was founded by King David I., in 1136, restored 
by Robert Bruce in 1326, and decorated through two succeeding 
centuries. The sketch of it given in the fifth chapter renders any 
long account of it unnecessary here. In " The Lay" it is described 
as it appeared during its completeness and glory, when its ancient 
Cistertian holders kept it fair and sacred ; when " service high and 
anthem clear " resounded along its aisles and " embowered roof," 
with solemn effect that we may know in happily preserved churches. 
In "The Abbot" (chapter xxviii.), we find it again described by 
Scott, as the St. Mary's of Kennaquhair, but sadly changed to the 
condition in which it was when devastation was being visited upon 
it, marking it for ruin, — when its last abbot was stealthily installed 
where his predecessors had taken office with triumphant service. 
And now, though we find this " holy and beautiful house " empty 
and desolated, yet beautiful and eloquent in its " proud decay," we 
can reanimate it with the beings and the action a greater magician 
than Michael of Ettrick Vale has created within it. We can admire 
the original of all that has hitherto been sketched, and, from the 
quiet church-yard, south and east, look at the chief architectural 
wonders spared it. These latter are the two gables, in the direc- 
tions named, with their elaborate and elegant canopies, decorated 
buttresses, and traceried windows with 

" slender shafts of shapely stone, 
By foliaged tracery combined ; " — 

we can, indeed, fancy that 

" some fairy's hand 
'Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand 



» TEE LAND OF SCOTT:' 297 

In many a freakish knot had twined ; 
Then framed a spell, when the work was done, 
And changed the willow-wreaths to stone." 

The world knows those celebrated lines, introducing the Second 
Canto of " The Lay," and describing the abbey when, in its present 
condition, it appears to best effect ; and one cannot but recall them 
whenever it is thought of: — 

" If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, 
Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; 
For the gay beams of lightsome day 
Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. 
When the broken arches are black in night. 
And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; 
When the cold light's uncertain shower 
Streams on the ruin'd central tower ; 
When buttress and buttress, alternately, 
' Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; 

When silver edges the imagery. 
And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; 
When distant Tweed is heard to rave. 
And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, 
Then go — but go alone the while — 
Then view St. David's ruin'd pile ; 
And, home returning, soothly swear, 
Was never scene so sad and fair ! " 

In Scott's time, the ruin was guarded and shown, by "a worthy 
little man, honest Johnny Bower," an humble but hearty admirer 
of its great poet. Washington Irving, in his delightful chapter on 
" Abbotsford," has described him, and his minute attention to 
passages of " The Lay " describing the Abbey. The moonlight 
effect, for which there was great demand by tourists, sorely puzzled 
him, as a shining moon is a rare phenomenon in that region. Ac- 
cordingly, he devised what is not now (the writer thinks) extant, 
— a great candle on a pole, as a substitute. " It does na light up 
a' the abbey at aince, to be sure," Johnny would say ; " but then 
you can shift it about, and show the auld ruin bit by bit, whiles the 
moon only shines on one side." There is, however, extant a very 
neat and excellent little local guide-book, by "John Bower Mel- 
rose," abounding in spirit creditable to him or another, especially 
a quotation from Scott, referring to destroyers of this pile. " There 
is no doubt," says this authority, "that the humor of demol- 
ishing monuments of ancient piety and munificence — and that 
in a poor country like Scotland, where there was no chance of their 
being replaced — was both useless, mischievous, and barbarous." 



298 " THE LAND OF SCOTT.'' 

A variety of indifferent apologies for this " humor " have been put 
forth ; a verse from a once popular ballad is a sample, — 

" The monks of Melrose made eude kail 
On Fridays when they fasted ; 
Nor wanted they gude beef and ale 
As lang's their neighbours' lasted." 

But the " arguments " of the destroyers were their deeds ; and 
those are sufficient to illustrate their motives, expressed by demol- 
ishing " storied windows," defacing ancient art, perverting venera- 
ble charities, and overthrowing — not reforming — institutions that 
had long been " lights in dark places," preserving better than their 
times elsewhere preserved ; preserving amid storm and violence 
without, the sacred "peace on earth," — institutions that were 
memorials of Christianity almost from its foundation in the coun- 
tries of the iconoclasts. 

And while these once sacred walls condemn fanaticism, and 
almost equally fatal cold indifference, they, with startling eloquence, 
are monumental of the judgment and the doom that decaying piety 
and spiritual sloth or debasement, inevitably bring upon unfaithful 
stewards to whom ministration of divine truth is committed. 

Yet, while we hnger at Melrose, or in other scenes that bear like 
history and relics, may we now, remembering the good and loving 
the beautiful, not refuse, with true affection to say that we 

" do love these ancient ruins ; 
We never tread upon them but we set 
Our foot upon some reverend history 1 " 

The next visit after that to the abbey should certainly be to the 
summit of Eildon Hill, for that comprehension of a region new 
to us, to be best obtained from some elevated point, whence it can 
be overlooked. Unenterprising loungers know little the exhilara- 
tion as well as instruction and pleasure of chmbing a high hill- 
side, and gaining its breezy summit and the wide outlook from it. 
The Eildon Hill commands decidedly the best view of this region, 
— indeed, one of those rare and truly national views, of which that 
from Arthur's Seat (page 256) may be considered the first in Scot- 
land, and this the second. The ascent is not a long or difficuh 
walk, so as, in the old rhyme, — 

" Three carles with one consent 
To the geeen cone of Eildon went — 
A hill for weirdly deeds renowned, 
With ancient camp of Roman crowned," — 



EILDON BILL. 299 

SO we may now go. The hill, composed mostly ot whin-stone and 
felspar, and hard soil covered by httle else than grass, has three 
summits, the highest of which is thirteen hundred and sixty-four 
feet in altitude. Various reasons, not strictly scientific, have been 
given why this hill (for it is really one, with a base half a dozen 
miles in circuit) has these three summits. It is said that the wiz- 
ard, Michael Scott, who had a deal to do in this region, spoke 
" words that cleft Eildon hills in three," through the agency of a 
certain spirit, — who, furthermore, endeavored to remove the mass 
on a shovel, when the hill was cracked from the top, the attempt at 
moving it frustrated, and the triple head formed. One on the east- 
ern summit may recall more of Scott's words to Irving : " Now I," 
said Scott, " have brought you, like the pilgrim, in the ' Pilgrim's 
Progress,' to the top of the Delectable Mountains, that I may 
show you all the goodly regions hereabouts ; " and goodly indeed 
they appear, as one surveys them in the delightfully varied pano- 
ramic landscape commanded from this point of view. All east- 
ward extends the wide, exquisite vale of the lower Tweed, softly 
diversified, beautiful as any rural land on earth, traversed by that 
sparkhng river, from where its curves first appear in the deep fore- 
ground to where they disappear among the purpled and violet-blue 
low hills by Berwick, on the eastern horizon. South-eastward to 
south, over a rolling, intermediate country, stretches the range of 
Cheviots, — the long form of the dominant Carter Fell above them 
all, bounding that horizon. Nearly south, are the broad, pyramidal, 
prominent Ruberslaw and the Minto Crags. Into the south-west, 
extends the Cheviot range, growing more broken, and blending with 
the Liddesdale and Eskdale hills. Westward interposes the high- 
est peak of Eildon, — for the traveller is supposed to be upon the 
lower and more easterly point, — its summit grass-grown, its great 
side bare and gravelly. Westward, also, is the company of strangely 
romantic hills of Ettrick and Yarrow. Northward from them rise 
lesser and wooded hills, and smoky manufacturing and prosperous 
Galashiels, with bare heights beyond. Far along, north and north- 
east, is an open agricultural country, bounded by the lonely Lam- 
mermuirs. Then the turning eye gazes along the receding vista of 
the Tweed-dale hills, till it again sees those near Berwick. With 
these diversified forms of nature are blended a wonderful variety of 
historic, poetic, and romantic scenes. Close to one are remains 
of a strong camp, planted by the conquering Romans, who gave the 



300 " THE LAND OF SCOTTr 

name Tremontium to this hill. In the distant east is that Berwick, 
during centuries fought for by English and Scotch ; and near it, is 
the field of Halidon Hill (1333). Indeed, all this country thence, 
around to the south and south-west, was their foraying ground 
during hundreds of years. 

On a dusky hill, far away, almost east, is Flodden Field, where, 
in 1513, Scottish power was laid low, as sung in " Marmion." 
South-east, among the Cheviots, is the almost fabled Chevy Chase. 
In nearly the same direction, but not so far, by the tall Waterloo 
Column, is the battle-field of Ancrum Moor (1545), where the Ama- 
zon Lilliard fought till death in the Scottish ranks. Almost north- 
ward is the field of Melrose fight, in 1526, for possession of James 
v., — the last great clan-battle of the Borders. To the westward, 
just over the hills, in the middle distance, is Philliphaugh, where 
the defeat of the great Marquis of Montrose, in 1645, with the 
English defeat at Naseby, ruined the cause of Charles I. And 
through this scenery is enshrined many an association with reli- 
gious faith and history. Eastward, the remains or positions of the 
four great ecclesiastical establishments of southern Scotland remind 
one of the best aspects of the ancient church. Closely below is 
" fair Melrose ; " a little farther, by a bend in Tweed, the solemn 
park-woods of Dryburgh, and, in the dimmer distance, Kelso and 
Jedburgh, each once having its magnificent abbey; while, looking 
westward, one is reminded, by the hills where Covenanters were 
chased, of the degenerate agents who last exercised church power 
in this region, and of the changed character faith has hereabouts 
assumed. Of Scott, this whole land is an abounding record. North 
of east, half a dozen miles distant, conspicuously rising above a 
deep-green-grassed, and gray, rock-varied tract, is the old tower of 
Smailholm, where he played when a boy, and that he afterward 
celebrated as scene of his ballad " The Eve of St. John." Down in 
the broad Tweed valley is the scene of much of " Marmion." All 
around are the scenes of the " Lay." Among the Liddesdale hills 
westward, he made his early raids, and found prototypes of honest 
Dandie Dinmont. Between hills, and over a saddle-shaped crest 
of green woodland, west-north-west, stands Abbotsford itself (un- 
seen). Northward extends the agricultural vale of Allan Water, 
scene of much of "The Monastery," and the earlier portion of 
" The Abbot ; " while in the distance rise those hills whose name is 
alway associated with perhaps the most complete, the most mourn- 



ABB or SF OKU. 30I 

ful, and the most exquisite of his novels, — "The Bride of Lam- 
mermoor." Between Melrose and Galashiels is the village of 
Darnick, whence Scott, among his famihars, received the title 
" Duke of Darnick." More generally associated with legend and 
romance, appear many other objects or sites. Down the hillside 
stood the "Eildon tree," sung about by Thomas the Rhymer. 
East, just over where Tweed is winding into sight close below, 
is Bemersyde, with its dark-green tree plantations, home of the 
Haigs for many centuries, where " fair Thomas " prophesied they 
always shall be. To the left of it comes down the Leaderwater 
through Lauderdale, up which was his tower. Close to this dale, 
in the middle distance, is a high conical hill with a belt of dark- 
green trees winding up it, and a scar of bared red earth below its 
grassy point (as the writer saw it) ; and that is where grows the 
poetic "Bonnie, bonnie broom of the Cowdenknowes." Over to- 
wards Abbotsford, in a rather extensive, irregular, long tract of 
dark-green woods, is Rhymer's Glen, scene of Thomas the Rhymer's 
meeting with the Queen of the Fairies. In the west and south- 
west are those weird Midland Border hills, haunted with tales of 
their wild inhabitants, and with teeming creations of ballad litera- 
ture, as the traveller may learn by but one excursion made among 
them. Like that delightful view from the Drachenfels, so fascinat- 
ing to Lord Byron, and like his general thought of Rhine-land, this 
enchanted panorama indeed combines " the brilliant, fair, and soft, 
the glories of old days." Truly, this is a view worth walking up a 
hill to see ! And clear weather and an admiring heart to many who 
shall go up to it ! 

That shrine in the Land of Scott, to which, however, the greatest 
number and variety of pilgrims resort, is his celebrated residence, 
Abbotsford. It is situated about three miles west of Melrose, 
upon a terrace overlooking a broad meadow northward, through 
which the Tweed flows musically over a pebbly bed. Beyond, in 
this direction, are moderate hills ; while, southward from the house, 
the ground rises a little distance to the public road, and then, in 
longer reaches, till it blends with the great Border hill-country. 
Thriving park-like plantations now ornament the estate, — a large 
one, — and cover no inconsiderable portion of its surface. 

In 181 1, Scott's lease of Ashiestiel (page 278) ended ; and there- 
fore, for a home, he " resolved to purchase a piece of ground suffi- 
cient for a cottage and a few fields," as he wrote to his publisher 



302 ^' THF LAND OF SCOTT.'' 

Ballantyne. The result was, that he purchased of an old friend. 
Rev. Dr. Robert Douglas, a farm, now forming a north-eastern 
portion of the present Abbotsford estate, and consisting of a " rich 
meadow or haugh along the banks of the river, and about a hun- 
dred acres of undulated ground behind, all in a neglected state, 
undrained, wretchedly enclosed, much of it covered with nothing 
better than the native heath." The small buildings on this farm 
were correspondingly poor, and the whole " had derived the inhar- 
monious designation of Clarty Holer The realization here of the 
great Magician's " romance in lime and stone," and of subsequent 
beauty developed from such beginnings, is by no means one of the 
least of his marvellous creations. But these lands had from the 
first interest to him. They had belonged to the abbots of Melrose, 
and were near the ruins of the abbey once also belonging to those 
lords. Upon them is the site of Cessford's fight, — " the last great 
Clan-battle of the Borders," — and also a portion of a Roman road 
from the camp on Eildon. Across the river, fully in view from 
them, are the chief traces of that early British barrier, the Cat- 
rail. 

The first accommodations at Abbotsford were simple. About the 
end of May, 1812, Scott and his family "flitted" thither from Ash- 
iestiel. In the summer of 1813, he obtained possession of the 
region around Cauldshiels Loch, then a lonely lake. It is perhaps 
a mile in circumference, and is situated south from the river. In 
1815, he added the lands of Kaeside. In 1816, the estate had in- 
creased to about one thousand acres, mostly bought at high prices 
from surrounding " cocklairds," or small proprietors. During the 
autumn of 1817, he purchased, for the sum of ^10,000, the lands 
of Toftfield, a property containing an excellent new house, to 
which he gave the name Huntly Burn. He was then master of 
Rhymer's Glen, and the places where " True Thomas " " had inter- 
view with the Queen of Fairy," and of the whole ground of the 
battle of Melrose, from Skirmish Field to Turnagain, and also of 
heights commanding views of Melrose and the highlands of Ettrick 
and Yarrow, as, — for example, that height north of Cauldshiels, of 
which he wrote exquisitely during the autumn of this year, — 

" The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, 
In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet : 
The westland wind is hush and still — 
The lake lies sleeping at my feet." 



ABBOTSFORD. 303 

In 1820, he bought, for ;^2,3oo, more land towards Eildon. During 
the period in which these various purchases were made, the larger 
portion of the house itself was slowly built. Nearly all the founda- 
tions and a portion of the superstructure had been built in the 
summer of 18 17. By the summer of 1821, the details of the finished 
design were mostly determined ; but it was not until three years 
later that the last touches were put upon it, the curiosities and 
other internal matters arranged, and the general effect, as we now 
see it, attained. Indeed, it may almost be said, that the year 1825, 
Scott's last year of uninterrupted prosperity, was reached before the 
entire completion. During most of the summer of 1824, he was 
agreeably occupied in arranging the library and museum. Much 
of the furniture and fittings were made by local workmen, — thor- 
ough lovers and admirers of their great patron. The large, com- 
plex, and beautiful table, in the library, was made by Joseph 
ShilHnglaw of Darnick, — " the Sheriff planning and studying every 
turn as zealously as ever an old lady pondered the development of 
an embroidered cushion." The internal painting was by a protegS 
whom he found printing. During this year also (1824), arrived 
many of the rarest presents, such as the chair made of the only 
remaining wood of the house where Wallace " was done to death 
by felon hand," and one hundred and forty volumes, octavo, of 
Variorum Classics, from Mr. Constable, his pubhsher, and, from 
his king, George IV., a superb copy of Montfau^on's Antiquities, 
— fifteen foHos, in scarlet morocco. The subsequent fortunes of 
the famous house are well known ; how the commercial reverses of 
January, 1826, appeared to threaten to deprive Sir Walter of this 
heart treasure ; how his heroic efforts — time and he against adver- 
sity — enabled him to conquer pecuniary misfortune, though at the 
sad cost of health ; how he at last knew his great Hfe-dream was 
realized, and this Abbotsford estate was secured to his family ; how 
that family has gradually passed away, until now a remote descend- 
ant holds the estate, and keeps it honorably, — all is known well, as 
one is supposed to approach, to view, to enter, and to examine, this 
perhaps most remarkable existing home of Genius. 

As has been stated, it is reached by a moderate descent 
from the pubhc road, whence it is hardly visible. Travellers have 
lately been admitted by a postern to the basement, an approach 
that hardly allows as impressive effect as the front entrance. The 
general ground form of the house is a parallelogram, about one 



304 " THE LAND OF SCOTT:' 

hundred and fifty by fifty feet, with irregular outlines, to which 
additions have been made westward within a few years past. One 
longer side of the house is upon the terrace overlooking the Tweed. 
The opposite side, facing a court-yard south, is the main front, to 
which there is access through a castellated gateway, furnished with 
the jougs, or emblems of feudal authority from Thrieve Castle in 
Galloway, an ancient stronghold of the great Douglases. This 
gateway gives access to the court-yard, that is perhaps half an acre 
in extent, and bounded on two sides by embattled walls, and on the 
third (opposite the entrance) by a stone screen of pointed arch- 
ways filled with light iron net-work, — one of Scott's own designs. 
Beyond this screen is seen another square area, — a large flower- 
garden. Green turf, parterres of flowers, mantling ivy, and sculp- 
tures, decorate both enclosures. On the fourth side of the court- 
yard is the house front. The general style of the edifice, externally, 
is the Scottish Baronial. Several architects were consulted, but Sir 
Walter probably had a directing supervision. There has been not 
a little unnecessary criticism of the design ; but, withal, the effect 
of it is rich, picturesque, and original. The material is a purplish 
or chocolate-red sandstone, with quoins, parapets, and ornaments of 
smoothed ashy-gray stone. The more exposed surfaces are begin- 
ning to show weather-stain and lichens, but the work appears to 
wear well. Zigzagged gables, pepper-box turrets, sundry irregu- 
lar towers and shafted windows, and also several curiosities and 
inscriptions vary the exterior design. At the western side of 
the main entrance, and high up in the wall, is the door of the 
Old Tolbooth of Edinburgh, surmounted by the words " The 
Lord of armies is my protector ; blissit ar thay that trust in the 
Lord, 1575." Over the great gateway is a sculptured portcuUis 
with Scott's own motto, " Clausus tutus ero." On the front gable 

of the dining-room is, — 

SO 

LI DEO 

GLORIA 

On the east side of the house appear a rudely carved sword and 
the words, " Up with ye sutors of Selkyrke, A.D. 1525." In another 
place, on the same side, is inscribed, — 

" By night, by day, remember ay 
The goodness of ye Lord ; 
hvA thank his name, whose glorious fame, 

Is spread throughout ye world." A. C. M. D. t6i6. 



ABBOTSFORD. 305 

Over the library window, towards the Tweed, is a stone, originally 
over the entrance to the hall of the old college of Edinburgh, bear- 
ing the sentence from Seneca, — 

" Virtus Rectorem Ducemque 
Desiderat: Vitia sine Ma- 
gistro Discuntiir. Anno 1616." 

In the court-yard, supposed to have been already entered by the 
traveller, is a stone fountain from the cross at Edinburgh. To 
the east of the door is a white marble statue of Scott's favorite dog 
Maida, inscribed, — 

" Maida; marmorea dermis sub imagine Maida. 
Ad Januam domini ; sit tibi terra levis." 

^Through an arched porch, designed from the entrance to Linlith- 
gow Palace, the house is entered. A single-leaved door, sur- 
mounted by a huge pair of stag's horns, admits to the hall, a 
sombre, rich, and picturesque apartment, extending to the right 
nearly its entire length, — about forty feet. Its width is about 
thirteen feet, and its height perhaps fifteen. Nearly opposite the 
entrance is a lofty, dark-brown sandstone chimney-piece, copied 
from a portion of the cloisters at Melrose. Around the apartment is 
a high wainscoting, of dark oak carved in low rehef, from the dis- 
mantled Palace of Dunfermhne. The floor is laid with tiles of 
black and white Hebridean marble, — both in large octagons, and 
the former in small squares, set lozengewise at the angles. This 
pavement near the door is losing its surface finish, and at the time 
of the writer's visit was the only portion of the interior showing 
wear noticeably. Two square-headed windows, glazed with plain 
and colored glass, charged throughout with armorial devices, open 
upon the main court-yard. The ceiling appears to be nearly flat, 
but is made to have the effect of a depressed pointed arch by 
rafters that are placed closely, and shaped thus by having the ends 
turned in curves from corbels, and the undersides bevelled from 
these curves to the centre. Along this centre of the ceiHng, on 
each rafter or beam, are shields, sixteen in number, bearing quar- 
terings of the poet's pedigree, except the eastern three that aie 
clouded and inscribed, " Premit nox alta." Upon the fronts of the 
corbels are thirty to forty other shields, emblazoned with the arms 
of the great Borderers. On the cornice, extending along the room, 
in very black letter, is the running inscription, " These be the Coat 
Armouris of the Clannis and Men of name quha keepit the Scottish 



3o6 ''THE LAND OF SCOTT. 

Marches in ye days of auld for the Kinge. They were worthy 
in their tyme, and in their defense God them defended." There 
is much curious armor exhibited on the walls. At the east end hang 
the ponderous keys of the " Heart of Mid Lothian." At the centre 
of this end is a square-headed door, with a bordering of shields 
bearing memorial escutcheons of Sir Walter's friends and compan- 
ions. Each side of the door is a canopied niche. Through this 
door-way one passes to the main staircase, of good though not great 
size, built of clay-colored stone, and winding, from the basement to 
the chief chamber floor, within a half-octagon sort of turret, lighted 
from the main court. Directly in range eastward of this hall door 
is another, opening to the sanchun sanctorum, — the study, — that 
is fourteen feet wide by twenty feet long. Here, says Dr. Dibdin, 
" breathed, and for a while hved, the greatest of intellectual mortals 
in this country [Britain], after Shakespeare, Bacon, Milton, and 
Newton. You walk into Sir Walter's study, sit in his chair," and 
" gaze upon the motley furniture. . . . You cannot fail to be sensibly 
affected. I own that I felt more than when I was standing by his 
grave-side. Criticism were an ungracious, if not an almost unhal- 
lowed task." Here he wrote some of the most brilliant portions 
of his prose compositions. Here he sat, in many respects, the most 
successful of authors. Here we reahze him, as it were, the Great 
Magician enthroned, exercising not only the higher influences of 
literature, but also that most difiicult phase of its power, — the 
magic spell by which he made " the barren hills of Parnassus — 
trodden bare with the feet of glorious paupers" — become to him 
" rivals of the teeming heights of Mexico and Peru, of California 
and Australia." And, as one looks over the strangers' book in the 
room below, and sees how from world-wide places pilgrims of all 
classes have come to this shrine, his nobler power is again most 
suggestively told us, and we realize, as expressed by Hewitt, "a 
proud test of the never-dying curiosity connected with every thing 
attached to the name of Scott." 

The only furniture in this study is a small folding box- writing- 
desk in the centre, — inscribed " Afflavit deus et dissipantur," — and 
a plain, easy arm-chair, covered with black leather, and facing the 
door. Oak book-cases, containing works of reference, line the 
room, — one of these cases being a carved antique, mated by a 
modern duplicate. Around three sides of the room is a light gal- 
lery. It is reached by a stair in one front corner, while in the 



ABBOTSFORD. 



307 



Other, at the corner of the house, is a little room on the same level 
as the study, and opening from it. Here, beneath a small window, 
is a case of precious relics, — the last clothes worn out of doors b}* 
Sir Walter, — a forester's suit — thick, neat shoes; drab gaiters; 
black and white check woollen trowsers, stout and clean ; a rather 
thin vest of white and dark narrow-stripe pattern ; a dark-greenish 
coat, with plain, bright, steel buttons ; and a white hat, old and 
stained. In the study are also a small, full-length portrait of Sir 
Walter, by Raeburn, and some curiosities. The doors and win- 
dows are double to exclude sound ; and, for further convenience, 
there is, by the gallery, access to the chambers above, and otherways 
privately to the grounds outside. Turning to the left (as one has 
come from the hall), the great library adjoining the study is en- 
tered. This apartment, the largest, about nineteen by forty feet, and 
fifteen feet high, extends parallel to the study, the staircase, and the 
hall. There is a door of communication to the hall, and another to 
the drawing-room westward. Three windows open northward, giv- 
ing views over the meadow, the Tweed, and the hills beyond. The 
central of these three windows is a very large bay, with five faces, 
two holding cases of curious books, and the others glazed with 
plate-glass. Opposite this bay is the chimney-piece, of rather sim- 
ple gothic, bearing a full-length portrait of the second Sir Walter 
Scott, in Hussar uniform. Rather flat looking oak cases, or 
" presses," twenty-five in number, with brass-wired doors, line the 
room. There are four at the east end, separated by a niche con- 
taining a copy of the Avon bust of Shakespeare ; four at the west 
end, where the drawing-room door corresponds with this niche ; 
three each side the fire-place ; one in each corner, between the 
windows, and in each side of the bay, as mentioned. The surface 
of wall above the cases is painted to imitate green drapery. The 
ceiling, of stucco, painted in imitation of oak, is flat. It is divided 
into square compartments by crossed beams, that, at the sides, 
spring with an easy curve from decorated corbels, and, where they 
intersect with two main transverse beams, carry rather large and 
rich pendants, designed from those well known at Roslin Chapel, 
each pendant having at its lower point a "Star of Bethlehem." 
The ceiling of the bay is also designed from originals at Roslin. 
The number of books, variously estimated, amounts to several thou- 
sand ; and the collection, apart from its history, is one of great 
value. It is arranged according to subjects. British history and 



308 ''THE LAND OF SCOTTr 

antiquities fill the whole of the chief wall ; English poetry and 
drama, classics and miscellanies, one end ; foreign literature, chiefly 
French and German, the other. " The cases along the outer side 
contain the specialties and treasures." " One consists entirely of 
books and MSS. relating to the insurrections of 171 5 and 1745 ; 
and another (within the recesses of the bow-window) of treatises 
de re magica, both of these being . . . collections of the rarest curi- 
osity." In a corner is the magnificent set of Montfaugon given by 
George IV., and previously mentioned. There were few authors, 
contemporaries of Scott, " of whose works presentation copies are 
not to be found here." There are " inscriptions of that sort in," 
perhaps, " every European dialect extant. The books are all in 
prime condition, and bindings that would satisfy Dr. Dibdin." 
Scott began to collect books when a mere boy ; and in one of " sev- 
eral volumes of ballads and chap-books ... he has prefixed this 
MS. note : ' This little collection of stall tracts and ballads was 
formed by me, when a boy, from the baskets of the travelling ped- 
lers. Until put into its present decent binding, it had such charms 
for the servants, that it was repeatedly, and with difficulty recovered 
from their clutches. It contains most of the pieces that were popu- 
lar about thirty years since [i.e., about 1780], and I dare say many 
that could not now be procured for any price.' This note was 
written in 18 10." The grand collection as he left it, is, says Mr. 
Edwards, particularly strong in " early poetry and early romantic 
prose fiction, both British and foreign," and "in Scottish history." 
" But there is nothing more distinctively characteristic of this 
famous Hbrary than its wonderful assemblage of works on Demon- 
ology and Witchcraft, and the curious themes allied therewith. 
Probably no other such collection was ever formed." Towards the 
close of his life, Scott began a descriptive catalogue of his Hterary 
and antiquarian curiosities, entitled " Rehquiae Trottcosianae ; or, 
the Gabions of the late Jonathan Oldbuck, Esq." But this work 
was, unfortunately, never finished. A catalogue of the Hbrary, 
however, was printed for the Maitland Club (Edinburgh, 1838, 4to), 
and also for the Bannatyne Club, 1839. "Few catalogues have 
been printed so sumptuously, and none ever deserved fine printing 
less," says Mr. Edwards. " It professes to illustrate the use Scott 
made of his library," and might have been made " a valuable con- 
tribution to the history of hterature ; " but it fails in these respects, 
and is merely a list of books, yet withal a very valuable list. A 



ABBOTSFORD. 



309 



visitor to Abbotsford, many years ago, remarked, " that so many ot 
the volumes were enriched with comments or anecdotes in Scott's 
own hand, that to look over his books was in some degree to con- 
verse with him." After his pecuniary disasters in 1826, the library 
and museum were at length, in 1830, restored to him by his cred- 
itors,, with the words, honorable to them and to him, stating this to 
be "the best means the creditors have of expressing their very high 
sense of his most honorable conduct, and in grateful acknowledg- 
ment of the unparalleled and most successful exertions he has 
made, and continues to make for them." As has been truly writ- 
ten, " Visits to Abbotsford are now paid to the abode not alone of 
a famous author, but of a man who chose the sacrifice of health and 
life as preferable to failure in an obhgation, the fulfilment of which 
most even among honorable and sanguine men would have deemed 
an impossibihty. The hfe was sacrificed, but the task was achieved." 
There are many curiosities, besides literary, in this apartment, as 
in each other apartment, indeed, but requiring personal examina- 
tion rather than description. 

The drawing-room opens from the library, by a door at the centre 
of the western end. It is eighteen by twenty-four feet, and is 
lighted by two tall windows towards the Tweed. Opposite these 
is the chimney-piece, rather plainly made of mottled red marble. 
The walls, the writer found covered with a Chinese paper, and the 
ceiling painted in clouds. A handsome foliated scroll cornice seems 
painted to imitate oak. The furniture was fine, including a set of 
ebony chairs, presented by George IV., and some well-carved cabi- 
nets. There were, also, several interesting paintings, — Dryden, 
gray-haired and poetic, by Lely ; Raeburn's excellent portrait of 
Sir Walter sitting (over the fireplace) ; Miss Anna Scott in Span- 
ish costume ; Amias Cawood's head of Mary, Queen of Scots, 
painted the day after decapitation ; and eight or ten water-color 
drawings, a portion of the designs for the " Provincial Antiquities 
of Scotland," including " Fast Castle " (the Wolf's Crag of the 
Bride of Lammermoor), by Thomson ; and several of Turner's 
earlier works. Opposite to the library door is another that opens 
westward, and admits to a rather long and narrow room, crossing 
the house from north to south, lighted by a colored window at each 
end, and called the armory. In its eastern side, also, is a door to 
the hall ; and in its west side, a door to the dining-room and other 
apartments. The ceiling is a low pointed arch ; the walls are cov- 



3IO ^'THE LAND OF SCOTT:' 

ered with a very curious collection of arms. The dining-room is 
handsome, and very snug and sociable, with a grand bow-window 
overlooking the meadow and the Tweed. The ceiling is flat, of 
dark oak, panelled square by intersecting beams. On the walls are 
many pictures. Here, about half-past one, on the afternoon of 
Sept. 21, 1832, while Nature was calm, and Tweed was heard 
gently and sweetly rippling onward. Sir Walter Scott, in the pres- 
ence of all his children, in peace and with holy hope, departed for 
perpetual rest and joy, — 

" Dead he is not, — but departed, — for the artist never dies." 

Beyond this apartment is a delightful breakfast parlor, commanding 
views towards Ettrick, as well as upon Tweed. Yet farther west 
and south-west are rooms for servants and offices, and also some 
new private apartments built by the proprietor (about 1858), for 
retirement from the almost uninterrupted succession of visits by 
tourists who are shown several of the apartments that have been de- 
scribed. Only a large and elaborate catalogue can give an adequate 
idea of the many remarkable objects in the museum ; and the charm 
of effect dwelhng in this most wonderful of poet's houses, can only 
be obtained by more famihar acquaintance than is necessarily pos- 
sible to most travellers, since fifteen minutes only are allowed a 
visitor for the examination. Almost every thing in the house and 
grounds remains scrupulously kept as left by Sir Walter. The 
best view of the house is from the river side. The offices are skil- 
fully screened from sight, so that there is no obstruction before the 
picturesque forms of the edifice. There are pleasant walks about 
the estate, much of which, as before remarked, is separated from 
the gardens and house, by the public road above them, — an ugly, 
inharmonious road. One will find broad, high, swelling hills of 
fields varied by belts, thickets, and tracts of plantations of pines, 
beeches, oaks, and other trees, among which are shady paths. At 
the western border of the estate will be found Caulshiels Loch (to 
which the writer w^as told there is no good carriage road), and 
eastward the Rhymer's Glen, where Thomas of Ercildoune used to 
meet the Queen of Fairy. This glen is a charmingly pretty little 
ravine, through which winds a tiny stream over and among stones 
or lichen-colored rocks. Beside it is a narrow path. The banks, 
on cither side, often er present reddish-earth tint than rock forms or 
colors, and bear many ferns and thickly growing forest trees. In 



ABBOTSFORD. 311 

this quiet nook, one can imaginatively glide into Elf-land, and fancy 
how when, — 

"True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank; 

A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e ; 

And there he saw a ladj'e bright, 

Come riding down by the Eildon tree. 

Her skirt was o' the grass green silk, 

Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; 
At ilka tett of her horse's mane 

Hung fifty siller bells and nine." 

Higher up in the grounds are wider views. In one direction 
rises the grand Eildon Hill ; in another appears Abbotsford itself, 
and Gala water sweeping into Tweed from busy, smoking Gala- 
shiels ; and in another Melrose town and Abbey. As even an 
admiring rambler remarked of this excursion through the estate, 
— and as "practical" people very likely will remark, — "it is 
amazing what a large stretch of poor land Sir Walter had got 
together ; " " but," added the admirer already quoted, " Sir Walter 
saw the scene with the eyes of poetic tradition. He saw things 
which had been done there, and sung of; and all was beautiful to 
him." And departing from this home that he loved so well, — 
that is, so thoroughly associated with his manly living, his affec- 
tions, and his glorious creating, — one may possibly think with 
Irving, " Happy would it have been for him could he have con- 
tented himself with his delightful little vine-covered cottage [his 
first home here], and the simple, yet hearty and hospitable style, in 
which he lived " while he occupied it. " The great pile of Abbots- 
ford, with the huge expense it entailed upon him, of servants, 
retainers, guests, and baronial style, was a drain upon his purse, a 
tax upon his exertions, and a weight upon his mind, that finally 
crushed him." Indeed, as one looks about the world, it seems as 
if architectural pomp arises to mark the decadence of power to 
ruin, whether it be in superb palaces hke those of the fading " Bride 
of the Sea ; " or, possibly, in the splendors of cathedrals, demon- 
strating both the power and wealth and the crumbling of the might 
of that Ecclesiastical Rome, whose decline their pomp often so 
closely antedated ; or, again, in this elaborated " romance in lime 
and stone." But this last abides thus far securely, and such a 
shrine of the affections as few even of those statelier palatial struc- 
tures are ; for this is not a mere suggestion of regret for what it 



312 



THE LAND OF SCOTT. 



once was, or for what it cost its builder, profound though the latter 
regret justly is, but this Abbotsford has become a monument of his 
honest integrity, of his true nineteenth-century chivalry of character 

— a character abounding in all the wealth of picturesqueness and 
vitality of that of the olden time, yet enabhng him to meet the great 
trial of his life, coming in a form in which it is apt to be shaped at 
this period, and to fight " a good fight," and to conquer, and here, 
lying down in the exhaustion of victory, to leave behind him this 
precious memorial, inscribed by him with the story of his noble 
spirit, demonstrated in his closing life. 

" Won is the glory, and the grief is past." 

There is another excursion in the " Land of Scott," very appro- 
priately connected with this, to the home of his latter life. It is an 
excursion to his earliest rural home, and to his last earthly resting- 
place, — a varied and pleasant drive from Melrose. The way is 
across the Tweed, five miles by a charming rural road up Lauder- 
dale to Earlston or Ercildoun, " the prospect hill." There may be 
seen a broken tower, the life-long residence of Thomas Learmont, 

— that Thomas the Rhymer so often mentioned in this region. On 
a church may be seen a stone inscribed, " Auld Rhymer's race lies 
in this place." There can also be seen, eastward, along this route, 
where grew the broom celebrated in the old ballad, — 

" O the broom, and the bonny, bonny broom, 
And the broom of the Cowdenknows 1 
Aye sae sweet as the lassie sang, 
r the bought, milking the ewes." 

Thence one can go across the country to Sandy Knowe, the 
farm of Scott's paternal grandfather, where Scott himself spent 
much time during boyhood, beginning his living there when he was 
only about eighteen months old. The farm-house is comfortable 
and substantial ; but its chief interest now is given by the neighbor- 
ing Smailholm Tower. In this region Scott received his first ideas 
of the great storied past that he was to grow up to illustrate. 
There, during long days and evenings, his youthful fancy was 
awakened and deligh.ted, by grandmother and aunt and old ser- 
vants, with legends and Border stories, and old songs and ballads. 
There early he began " making himself." Thence he had a wide 
prospect " over all the border country, with its feudal towers, its 
haunted glens, and wizard streams. . . . Thus before" he "could 
walk he was made familiar with . . . scenes of his future stories, . . . 



SMAILHOLM. 



313 



and, from the heights of Sandy Knowe, he may be said to have had 
the first lookout upon the promised land of his future glory." 

SiMAiLHOLM Tower, the first old-world edifice with which Scott 
became familiar, and the objects around it, might well inspire his 
imagination or that in others at any period of life. It is said 
to be " the most perfect relic of the feudal keep in the south of 
Scotland." Certainly there is scarcely one more imposing. Built 
about 1535 (and formerly held by Pringles of Galashiels, then by 
the Scotts of Harden, latterly Lords Polwarth), it is an impressive 
example of the style of defensive domestic architecture at the time, 
when the Scottish Parliament enacted, for better protection of the 
country, " Ffor Digging of Strengthis on the Bordouris," that this 
should be the sort of house suitable for an important Border pro- 
prietor. It stands lofty, square, and massive, on a rocky knoll, so 
commanding, and visible " at such a distance, as to be a guiding- 
mark to mariners off Berwick." On three sides are crags, and on 
the fourth a morass, and a deep little loch, the remains of a larger 
loch that once environed the height. These, with a strong outer 
wall, now very ruinous, and called the barinkyii, " within which the 
cattle of the vicinity were driven upon any sudden alarm," pro- 
tected the tower or chief structure. This is built of broken stones 
with red sandstone quoins, all now of mouldy gray color. The walls 
are about nine feet thick, and bear scarcely a trace of ornament. 
Outside were decidedly close quarters for retainers. Entering by 
the small door, southward, one finds that the lower story consists 
of a single, and not brilliantly lighted, room, with a stone, round- 
arched ceiling. At the south-east corner is a red sandstone turn- 
pike stair, narrow, but in quite good order, by which one can easily 
ascend to the roof. The next story was occupied by a large hall 
with a huge fireplace. Above this was a wooden floor, now gone, 
that formerly made the structure three stories high. The highest 
of these has a stone roof arched in barrel vault, shaped rather like 
the smaller end of an oval. The windows are not large, and are, 
of course, deeply set, owing to the thickness of the walls, and have 
cosey though hard stone seats each side. Going to the top of the 
tower, one finds two sides surmounted by the usual gables, and two 
by broken parapets, from which latter is a rugged slope of mutilated 
masonry, over the oval arch, to the crest of the roof across the 
centre of the tower. From this crest may be gained a surprisingly 
wide view. Eastward, over the broad, level vale of the lower 



314 ''THE LAND OF SCOTT.'' 

Tweed, one ma}' even see Berwick ; and south about, over undu- 
lating country, the heavy, uneven outhnes of the blue Cheviots 
flanking the broad form of the prominent Carter Fell ; while west- 
ward, in full view, is the " triple Eildon ; " and north, are the barren 
Lammermoor hills above the green fields of the Merse. Indeed, 
the general view is similar to that from Eildon. The foreground is, 
however, quite different. Close by, is the little brown loch, and 
beyond it the snug farm-house of Sandy Knowe, with its shrubby 
garden. North and west, the ground rises, abruptly, rocky and 
heathery. Eminent in it, is " the Watchfold," a crag " said to have 
been the station of a beacon in ames of war with England," to 
arouse the country when forayers approached. Southward, imme- 
diately below, is the beautifully varied rural country of the Tweed, 
with its green pastures, grain fields, hedgerows, scattered trees, 
and belts and parks of woodland. In the introduction to the Third 
Canto of " Marmion," Scott has charmingly told his recollection-s 
of this childhood haunt, and the influence it had upon him, — 



" Return the thoughts of early time ; 
And feelings roused in life's first day," — . . • 
Then rise those crags, that mountain tower, 
Which charm'd my fancy's waking hour. 
Then " was poetic impulse given. 
By the green hill and clear blue heaven. 
It was a barren scene, and wild, 
Where naked cliffs were rudely piled ; 
But ever and anon between 
Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green ; 
And well the lonely infant knew 
Recesses where the wall-flower grew, 
And honeysuckle loved to crawl 
Up the low crag and ruin'd wall. 
I deem'd such nooks the sweetest shade 
The sun in all its round survey'd ; 
And still I thought that shatter'd tower 
The mightiest work of human power ; 
And marvell'd as the aged hind 
With some strange tale bewitch'd my mind, 
Of forayers, who, with headlong force, 
Down from that strength had spurred their horse, 
Their southern rapine to renew, 
Far in the distant Cheviots blue, 
And, home returning, filPd the hall 
With revel, wassail-rout, and brawl. 
Methought that still with trump and clang, 
The gateway's broken arches rang ; 



SMAILHOLM. 315 

Methought grim features, seam'd with scars, 

Glared through the window's rusty bars, 

And ever, by the winter hearth, 

Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, 

Of lovers' slights, of ladies' charms, 

Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; 

Of patriot battles, won of old 

By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold; 

Of later fields of feud and fight. 

When pouring from their Highland height, 

The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, 

Had swept the scarlet ranks away." 

. . . thus nurtured, 
... I was wayward, bold, and wild, 
A self-will'd imp, a grandame's child ; 
But, half a plague, and half a jest. 
Was still endured, beloved, caress'd." 

This tower is also the scene of his fine ballad, " The Eve of 
Saint John," said to have been thus associated by him, to induce 
Scott of Harden, then proprietor, to carefully preserve it. The 
ballad spiritedly begins describing how, — 

*' The Baron of Smaylho'me rose with day, 
He spurr'd his courser on " — 

and tells how he went, not to a Border fight, — though he went 
fully armed, — but in search of a strange knight who, when dark- 
ness came on, " stood by the lonely flame " on the " eiry Beacon 
Hill," — 

" And many a word that warlike lord 
Did speak to my lady there ; " 

A mysterious tale of conjugal experience grew of their meetings, till 



" There is a nun in Dryburgh bower, 
Ne'er looks upon the sun ; 
There is a monk in Melrose tower. 
He speaketh word to none. 

That nun, who ne'er beholds the day, 

That monk, — who speaks to none, — 
That nun, was Smaylho'me's Lady gay. 

That monk the bold Baron." 

This tower is also the supposed original of Avenel Castle, in "The 
Abbot," and in "The Monastery" (the next novel that will be 
sketched on these pages), the scenes of both which are nearly alJ 
in and around Melrose. 



3i6 ^'THE LAND OF SCOTT.'' 

From Smailholm, the traveller may go over Bemerside Hill to 
Dryburgh Abbey, and thence, crossing the Tweed, return to Mel- 
rose. The route is varied, and generally quite pleasant. At Bemer- 
side may be found the ancient seat of the Haigs, a stronghold 
similar to Smailholm, but entire, and inhabited by a family who 
have held the estate since the time of Malcolm IV., in the middle 
of the twelfth century, and of whom Thomas the Rhymer made his 
well-known prediction, that has held true long enough to prove him 
a respectable prophet, — 

•'Tide, tide, whate'er betide 
There'll aye be Haigs in Bemerside." 

From the crest of the hill, not far oif, on the route taken, is one of 
the finest road views in the south of Scotland. One sees from the 
lofty-pointed Cowdenknows on the right, over a great sweep of 
country, to the distant ridges of the Cheviots on the left. In front 
is the triple Eildon, — its summits hence appearing widely spaced, 
its broad sides covered with loose stones or brown grass and whin. 
Deep in the foreground, encircHng the wooded site of old Mel- 
rose, comes the winding Tweed from past Melrose town and abbey 
and heights of the Abbotsford estate, and, flowing hence far away 
through its broad vale of beautiful agricultural country, leads one's 
gaze again to the Southern Border. By a shady path one may gain 
a point, commanding a portion of this view, where, facing it, stands a 
great, red sandstone statue, twenty-one feet high. The pedestal is 
inscribed, — 

"erected by DAVID STUART 

ERSKINE, EARL OF BUCHAN 

WALLACE 

GREAT PATRIOT HERO 

ILL REQUITED CHIEF 

A.D. M.D.CCCXIV." 

As a work of art, it is ordinary ; but it is said to have the merit of 
being the first monument erected to the hero in this land for which 
he fought. 

Dryburgh Abbey is reached through the Earl of Buchan's 
park, not far distant. Its remains are in a quiet, secluded, and very 
dehghtful spot, invested with some of the most sacred of earthly 
associations. The appropriate effect of these is, however, marred 
by the approach. The entrance to the grounds once was through 
an ungraceful gateway, erected by an earl contemporary with Scott. 



DRY BURGH ABBEY. 



317 



It admitted to an orchard, and was inscribed in Latin, " Hoc Poma- 
rium sua manus satum Parentibus suis optimis sac : D. S. Bu- 
chaniae Comes." Accompanying this classic demonstration of filial 
affection, is, or was, the very visible English warning, " Man-traps 
and spring-guns placed in this orchard." Beyond the gate and 
some ugly fencing are the ruins of the venerable abbey, and that, 
happily, is in the repose and beauty of its own sanctity, veiled with 
ivy and green shrubbery, — hoary, solemn, and eloquent even in 
silent desolation. It is placed where Tweed sweeps around a fresh, 
green tract of wooded lowland, in one of those retired, beautiful, 
little vales that the old monks loved and chose sp well. 

The religious associations of Dryburgh take our thoughts far 
back, even to Pagan times ; indeed, its very name is said to sig- 
nify, "settlement of the Druids." On its site, as early as the 
beginning of the sixth century, dwelt Christian missionaries, one 
of whom, Modan, was revered as a saint. 

But ravages of the dark ages swept over the spot ; and it was 
not until about the middle of the twelfth century that Hugh de 
Morville and his wife, Beatrix Beauchamp, really established the 
monastery, and King David I. confirmed their bounty. On Saint 
Martin's day (Nov. 10), 1150, the cemetery was consecrated "that 
no demons might haunt it;" and on the 13th Dec, 1152, portions 
of the monastery buildings were completed and first occupied by 
monks, who " were of the Premonstratensian Order, commonly des- 
ignated White Canons, from their dress," and who came from the 
abbey of Alnwick. This order was then new, having been founded 
only about twenty years before by St. Norbert, "a celebrated 
preacher and rehgious reformer." The first establishment of the 
order was at a spot in the vale of Coucy, designated to its founder, 
in a vision, by the Virgin, — whence the name, from pratuin mon- 
stratiwt, Pre-montr^, the appointed field. The garment worn by 
members of the order was also appointed by the Virgin, — "a 
coarse, black tunic," covered by " a white woollen cloak, in imita- 
tion of the angels of heaven, ' who are clothed in white garments.' " 
This costume was completed by a white "four-cornered cap or 
beret," shaped like those worn by the Augustines, from whose illus- 
trious order this directly emanated. Dedicating Dryburgh to the 
Blessed Virgin, the monks, through peace and through war, kept it 
about four centuries. Fierce English raids and iconoclastic vio- 
lence then prevailed, until, in 1587, its lands and revenues were 



3l8 ''TUE LAND OF SCOTT:' 

appropriated by the Crown. Subsequently the estate was sold to 
the Hahburtons of New Mains, many of whom are buried in the 
abbey precincts. From this family, through Robert Haliburton, 
grand-uncle of Sir Walter Scott, the estate passed by sale in 1767 ; 
and since then it has been the property of the earls of Buchan, 
respecting whom and whose ancestry no long dissertation is re- 
quired here. This family association with the abbey was one of 
Sir Walter Scott's chief inducements to appoint it to be his burial- 
place, — a romantic and appropriate place indeed, apart from such 
reason. 

The style of the edifice, — varied from Norman, indeed an almost 
Roman or Lombardic, massiveness and roundness, to Early-Eng- 
lish Pointed, — is a study. The structure is now very dilapidated 
and shattered, though it shows several rather complete portions. 
The material was almost entirely a red sandstone of a texture not 
good. It is now grown to a reddish-brown tint, with faded, worn 
surfaces, and some covering of hoary gray lichens, that at a dis- 
tance give it a sad, dark, gray look. The abbey, although by no 
means as large or decorated as that at Melrose, contained noble 
buildings. One entering the ruins at the south, finds the remains 
of the refectory, with an ivy-mantled western gable, pierced by a 
Catherine wheel window, and also with an ivy-draped eastern gable. 
Passing under this latter, one enters a vaulted passage, having on 
the right, remains of a library, and left, the abbot's parlor, of which 
walls remain, but no roof, — two pillars that once supported the 
arched ceiling only existing. There is a chimney-piece, and a sort 
of corner porch, through which latter the chapter-house is reached. 
This is the most entire portion of the abbey, and is a massively 
built, barrel-vaulted room, with a floor about six feet below the level 
of the cloisters adjacent westward. It "is forty-seven feet long, 
twenty-three feet broad, and twenty feet in height. At the east end 
are five Early-English Gothic windows, and at the west end is a 
large, circular-headed centre window, with a small one on each 
side." An arcade of intersecting arches, that once lined the room, 
now exists only along the east end. The whole is almost green from 
dampness. Beyond is another room, abutting on the south tran- 
sept of the church, tolerably entire, and said to be the chapel of St. 
Modan. One may go into the area, now grassy and open, where 
the cloisters once were, west of the chapter-house, and pass some 
broken, gloomy vaults, and along a curving walk lined by hedges 



DRY BURGH ABBEY. 319 

Df box often a dozen feet high, and shaded by beeches, and come 
to the west front of the church, and enter it by the main door, a Nor- 
man arch, showing some of the best of twelfth-century work Httle 
injured. The church was about one hundred and ninety feet long, 
cruciform, with short transepts and choir, and a chancel of one 
aisle hghted on three sides, similarly to that at Melrose. Scarcely 
more than the foundations of the nave and the bases of its pillars 
exist. The chancel is also a mere wreck. A single lancet win- 
dow remains at the north-east angle of the north-transept gable. 
The south gable is nearly entire, and conspicuous for its heavily 
mullioned pointed window, high up. 

But the portion to which every visitor is most attracted is Saint 
Mary's Aisle, the shrine of Dryburgh. Its form is familiar as that 
of almost any structure, — the two bays of the north side of the 
choir, in beautiful Early-English Pointed Gothic. Its mouldering 
sandstone has lost much of its once finished surface, and is bleached 
by centuries of weather-wear, tinted with lichens, and slowly crum- 
bling. Externally, one sees, all about, the marks of man's destruc- 
tion, and, within these two vaulted archways, the clayey, almost 
ghastly, gray but venerable frosting of time, and as well, also, 
Nature's garlanding of green grasses and bright blue and yellow 
flowers in the opening seams. Beneath the arches of this fragment 
of a "solemn temple," almost dissolving, appears in the eastern 
bay, on a red sandstone slab, upon the back wall, this inscription • 

" Hunc locum sepulturas 

D. Seneschallus Buchaniae Comes 

Gualtero Thomae Roberto Scott 

Haliburtoni Nei^otibus Concessit. 

A.D. MDCCXCI." 

And beneath this, on the ground, are four large, flat, altar-like 
memorial stones, — pohshed red granite. First, one reads upon 
the chief of these, even now slightly dimmed by dust and damp, — 

SIR WALTER SCOTT BARONET 
DIED SEPTEMBER 21 AD 1832. 

Where that stone now is, " about half-past five o'clock in the even- 
ing of Wednesday, the 26th Sept., 1832," hundreds of sincere 
mourners laid the remains of Sir Walter Scott "by the side of his 
wife in the sepulchre of his ancestors," there to rest " in sure and 
certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life," and fulfilment of 
the pre:ious promises expressed in that noble service read when 



320 ''THE LAND OF SCOTTr 

he was left with all that earth contained of those who had been st 
near and dear to him. Truly it has been said that there "laid, in 
the very centre of all the glories of his chivalrous genius," this 
plain slab suffices, "as if, like the tomb of Wren, it said to the 
visitor, ' Si monumentum requiris, circumspice.' " There seems 
almost a voice from the unseen, saying, this is indeed holy ground. 
And how even dear as it is holy it becomes while one thinks of the 
touching passage in his diary, and reads from the next stone, — 

"DAME CHARLOTTE CARPENTER 

WIFE OF 

SIR WALTER SCOTT OF ABBOTSFORD, BARONET 

DIED AT ABBOTSFORD MAY 15TH A.D. 1826." 

" It is not my Charlotte," he wrote, while she lay dead ; "it is not 
the bride of my youth, the mother of my children, that will be laid 
among the ruins of Dryburgh, which we have so often visited in 
gayety and pastime. No ! no ! she is sentient and conscious of my 
emotions somewhere — somehow: where we cannot tell; how wt 
cannot tell ; yet would I not at this moment renounce the mysteri- 
ous yet certain hope that I shall see her in a better world, for all 
that this world can give me." And again, of the burial : " The 
whole scene floats as a sort of dream before me, — the beautiful 
day, the gray ruins covered and hidden among clouds of foliage and 
flourish, where the grave, even in the lap of beauty, lay lurking, and 
gaped for its prey. Then . . . the coffin containing the creature 
that was so long the dearest on earth to me, and whom I was to 
consign to the very spot which in pleasure-parties we so frequently 
visited. . . . Duty to God and to my children must teach me pa- 
tience." 

And then the next stone, how it briefly tells when expired the 
great Sir Walter's fancied creation of a Border baronetcy, sprung 
from himself, telling, as it does, when his son, childless, left that 
baronetcy extinct. The inscription is simply, — 

"LIEUTENANT COLONEL SIR WALTER SCOTT 

OF ABBOTSFORD, SECOND BARONET, 
DIED AT SEA, 8tH FEBRUARY 1847, AGED 45 YEARS. 
HIS WIDOW PLACED THIS STONE OVER HIS GRAVE." 

And lastly, as if to complete the mortuary record of the chiet 
personages of his family, one reads from the remaining stone, — 
that latest placed here, 
relievo. — 



JEDBURGH AND KELSO. 32 1 



HERE, 
AT THE FEET OF WALTER SCOTT, 
LIE 

THE MORTAL REMAINS OF 

JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART, 

HIS SON IN LAW, 

BIOGRAPHER AND FRIEND. 

BORN 14TH JUNE 1794, 

DIED 25TH NOV. 1854." 



Another excursion from Melrose, may well be made, down 
Tweed-dale, to the remains of the two other great abbeys of the 
Border, the vicinity of both of which is accessible by rail : the one 
is the very broken but noble ruin in the central part of the town of 
Kelso ; the other is the more entire and imposing church in the 
town of Jedburgh, — a place very prettily situated in the valley of 
the picturesque Jed Water, and deserving more visits than are made 
to it. This latter edifice is, indeed, perhaps the most complete 
monastic relic in Scotland. It is built of red sandstone, grown 
olive or reddish gray, or blackened by a fire that once consumed 
much of it. The nave was about one hundred and thirty feet long. 
A portion, fitted up as a parish church, more than a century ago, is 
one of the most imposing places of the sort in Scotland, showing, 
as does St. Mungo's at Glasgow, what other glorious ecclesiastical 
buildings might now be. The south transept is nearly destroyed. 
The north is in repair and enclosed, forming the burial-place of the 
family of the Marquis of Lothian. The choir, the oldest portion, is 
of the most massive Norman work. The central tower, a hundred 
feet high, and still bearing pinnacles, parapet, and roof, commands 
a pleasing view, — east and west upon hills bearing country-seats ; 
south up the vale of the Jed to the Carter Fell, to which there is a 
dehghtful walk; and north over the town, and down the vale. 
Close around is a church-yard, and also the site of the ancient gar- 
dens of the abbey. The abbey is yet two hundred and thirty feet 
long from east to west, and is well kept. The people of the town 
were once great fighters, and famous for their war-cry, " Jeddart's 
here!" An execution at this place in 1608 gave rise to a Scotch 
phrase of the American "Lynch law," in the saying, "Jeddart 
justice," meaning, " hang first and judge afterwards." 

Kelso Abbey is a fragment of a remarkable historical monument. 
Founded by King David, in 1128, it was built in massive Norman 
grandeur, rivalling that of Durham Cathedral, across the English 



322 " THE MONASTER T." 

border. Repeatedly it experienced the devastations of war until, 
in 1545, when it was defended against an English force, it was cap- 
tured, and, in wanton barbarity, made a ruin. Portions of the west 
front, the transepts, and the great central tower, now remain, shat- 
tered, gray, huge, — demonstrating with their ponderous forms 
how strongly religion and peace must be protected in this land 
during the Middle Age, and how widely contrasted that turbulent 
period is from our times, exemplified in the tranquil town now 
beneath these yet mighty walls. This abbey, like the other reli- 
gious houses of the Scottish Border, is a sad memorial of English 
outrages at the middle of the sixteenth century ; and those who 
perpetrated them must bear large share of the condemnation due 
to the iconoclasts in North Britain. 



XXXV. 

''The Monastery." 

Eleventh Novel 0/ the Series ; Written i8ig-2o; Published March, 1820; 
A jitkor's age, 49 ; Time of action, 1549-68. 

ONE more particularly noticeable excursion in the vicinity of 
Melrose, and in the " Land of Scott," remains to be de- 
scribed ; and that is to some of the chief scenery of this story, — not 
yet mentioned, — principally in the vale of Allen, about five miles 
from the abbey. The author, in his introduction to this story, writ- 
ten in 1830, informs us that the general plan "was to conjoin two 
characters in that bustling and contentious age, who, thrown into 
situations which gave them different views on the subject of the 
Reformation, should, with the same sincerity and purity of inten- 
tion, dedicate themselves, the one to the support of the sinking 
fabric of the Catholic Church, the other to the establishment of the 
Reformed doctrines. It was supposed that some interesting sub- 
jects for narrative might be derived from opposing two such enthu- 
siasts to each other in the path of life, and contrasting the real 
worth of both with their passions and prejudices. The locaHties 
of Melrose suited well the scenery of the proposed story," with 



''THE monastery:' 333 

their abundant suggestions of ecclesiastical and warlike affairs j 
uith the crumbhng remains of the old town, and " the abandoned 
churchyard of Boldside," haunted by fairies, and with an even 
"more familiar refuge of the elfin race," — the glen of the Allen, 
"popularly termed the Fairy Dean." "Indeed," he continued, 
" the country around Melrose, if possessing less of romantic beauty 
than some other scenes in Scotland, is connected with so many 
associations of a fanciful nature, in which the imagination takes 
delight, as might well induce one even less attached to the spot 
than the author, to accommodate, after a general manner, the imag- 
inary scenes he was framing to the localities to which he was 
partial." And he has done this, although not aiming at exact 
portraiture. " The scenery," he added, " being thus ready at the 
author's hand, the reminiscences of the country were equally favor- 
able. . . . Machinery remained, — the introduction of the supernat- 
ural and marvellous." And of the latter supposed want came 
the celebrated " White Lady of Avenel," who was one of a sort of 
beings anciently thought to exist, maintaining relations " between 
the creatures of the elements and the children of men." " There 
was no great violence in supposing such a being as this to have 
existed while the elementary spirits were believed in." 

With this brief sketch of the author's motives to the story, we 
may begin to look upon his picturing of life, amid these scenes, 
variedly animated as they were at a period when feudalism and the 
power of the ancient Church were passing away before the innova- 
tions attending the spirit of change and free inquiry, so conspicuous 
during the sixteenth century. The first chapter introduces us to 
the central scene, — the village of Kennaquhair, " long famous for 
the splendid Monastery of Saint Mary, founded by David the First 
of Scotland, in whose reign were formed, in the same county, the 
no less splendid establishments of Melrose, Jedburgh, and Kelso." 
During wars immediately previous to the time represented, these 
establishments " had suffered dreadfully by hostile invasions. For 
the English, now a Protestant people, were so far from sparing the 
church-lands, that they forayed them with more unrelenting sever- 
ity than even the possessions of the laity. But the peace of 1550 
had restored some degree of tranquillity. . . . The monks repaired 
their ravaged shrines — the feuar again roofed his small fortalice 
which the enemy had ruined • — the poor laborer rebuilt his cottage," 
iind the cattle were driven home from wastes where a few had been 



3 24 " THE MONAS TEE F." 

preserved secreted. In this calm after a storm, and before tempests 
that were to devastate cloister and keep, Scott has described the 
condition of the feudal vassals and of the church-feuars, — that of 
the latter, under the more skilled direction of the monks, being 
superior to that of the former under their turbulent lords. Moss- 
trooping thievery was not uncommon. The monks lived on good 
terms with the families of their dependants, visited the better class 
of these familiarly, and were received respectfully ; while by the 
more general population they were regarded with the deference 
given to intelligence and wealth, even if they were in a degree de- 
spised for want of warlike enterprise. But, on the whole, "they 
lived as much as they well could amongst themselves, avoiding the 
company of others, and dreading nothing more than to be involved 
in the deadly feuds and ceaseless contentions of the secular land- 
holders." 

The action of the story opens at " a lonely tower " in a poor little 
hamlet. " The site was a beautiful green knoll, which started up 
suddenly in the very throat of a wild and narrow glen, and which, 
being surrounded, except on one side, by the winding of a small 
stream, afforded a position of considerable strength. ... Its great 
security," however, " lay in its secluded and almost hidden situa- 
tion. To reach the tower, it was necessary to travel three miles up 
the glen," frequently to cross the stream, and carefully to select a 
route along the steep, rugged, environing hillsides. The few inhab- 
itants and visitors " attached to the scene feelings fitting the time. 
Its name, signifying the Red Valley," the story informs, seemed 
derived from the dark-red color of the heath flowers, the bared 
earth, and craggy rocks abounding in it. Its solitudes, furthermore, 
were thought to be haunted by supernatural beings. This place, 
called Glendearg in the novel, has been thought to have its original 
in the Vale of Allen Water, before mentioned, and the tower 
described to be that of Hillslop, near the head of the glen, although 
Colmslie Tower, one of three situated closely together there, has 
been thought by some to be the prototype. Certainly the vale is very 
suggestive of Glendearg. One goes rather northward, about three 
miles up it from the Tweed, to a spot about five miles from Melrose, 
and finds it with a narrow bottom, bounded, each side, by varied 
hills. Westward these present long, and rather moderate, uneven 
slopes, — now agricultural in aspect, with large grain or turnip or 
grass fields, separated, as are the fields ^'^ Oiis region, by dark walls 



''THE monastery:' 325 

of small broken stones, somewhat in New-England style. East- 
ward the hills, more abrupt and broken, are grassy, and varied by 
much iron-gray rock surface, or patches of brown heather. Along 
these sides are few trees ; but a considerable number are scattered 
near a stream traversing the bottom of the vale. At the foot of 
the glen there is, or was recently, a forest. The stream, when one 
reaches the upper end of the glen, appears almost ludicrously small. 
The three towers stand forlorn, in a remote out-of-the-world open- 
ing, now quiet and rural. Near them are a few scattered cottages. 
The hillsides around this spot, except where there are tracts of 
plantations, are bare enough. The chief natural ornaments of the 
scene, that the writer found, were many large, handsome walnut- 
trees growing near the towers. One of these structures — Colm- 
slie — is very ruinous. It is of the usual Border style, built a 
basement and two stories high, of rough, gray stones, with parti-col- 
ored, flush, sandstone quoins. The upper parts of the walls are now 
gone, and the windows broken out. The principal tower — Hill- 
slop — is more entire and interesting, — indeed, quite a story-book 
sort of relic, suggesting a great deal of the outward aspect of the 
higher-class Border life of the troubled generation that lived at 
the time to which the novel refers. This tower is shaped, on the 
ground, hke an inverted capital letter (f), and is built of various 
small stones, now gray and mouldering with lichens. There are 
rude quoins of the same stone, a blank basement, and above, win- 
dows with sandstone casings, also rude. At the re-entering angle 
is a quarter-round turret resting upon a sandstone corbel above the 
entrance door, just there. In this turret is a dilapidated winding- 
stair, leading to a hall with a large chimney-piece. In the base- 
ment were smaller apartments, stone-built, and gloomy, one of 
which received the proprietor's cattle when danger threatened. 
Above the hall were small rooms, — chambers, and the like. The 
massive walls are yet tolerably entire, although the roof and upper 
flooring have disappeared. Near by, are remains of outworks or 
out-buildings. A little anachronism appears, if one supposes that a 
stone in the tower, inscribed 1585, gives the date of erection, — that 
year being subsequent to the time of the story. The structure, 
without nice criticism on chronology, is, however, typical enough 
of that period. The third tower, Langshaw, hardly requires de- 
scription after these. 

At Hillslop, then, as the storied Glendearg, the action opens 



326 '' THE MONASTERYy 

representing a foraging English captain — Staworth Bolton — with 
his men, visiting it and its occupant, widow Glendinning, whose 
husband had been killed at the battle of Pinkie (in 1547). This 
captain fancied her and her two sons, who appeared, sufficiently to 
promise them his protection, — not unimportant, since the force 
to which he was attached, held a strong place not many miles 
distant. These two sons, then boys, grew up to be the contrasted 
characters mentioned at the commencement of this chapter, — the 
elder, Halbert, dark and bold, to be the Protestant ; the younger, 
Edward, fair-complexioned, blue-eyed, and mild, to be attached to 
the interests and faith of the ancient church. In later life, both 
these persons reappeared, as has already been shown, in " The 
Abbot," — Edward appearing conspicuously. Report of an assur- 
ance of immunity from pillage, accorded the mistress of Glendearg, 
became widely known, and brought to her protected home a widow 
of higher rank, far more bereaved, — the Lady of Avenel. During 
the journey of the latter to the security of Glendearg, her young 
daughter Mary, who accompanied her, had sight of the mysterious 
White Lady, beckoning them on. While Lady Avenel was at Glen- 
dearg, Julian Avenel, younger brother of her late deceased husband, 
by title of might and opportunity seized upon her estate and held it. 
Thus the two widows and their families were brought to live 
together. In course of time. Father Phihp, sacristan of Saint 
Mary's, visited them, and, before leaving, obtained possession of a 
Bible that belonged to Lady Avenel, and that she read publicly in a 
manner obnoxious to him and to his party. He, on his return 
to the monastery, was obliged to cross a river, — the Tweed. 
Only one bridge then existed. This was constructed for defence, 
in a manner characteristic of the age, and consisted of a strong 
abutment on each side of the stream, in the centre of which stood a 
three-storied massive tower, pierced by a large archway, from which 
depended, in each direction, a draw-bridge. When these draw- 
bridges were raised, the tower was isolated, and, during floods 
especially, passage across was at the control of the guard in it. The 
keeper, having small liking for the monks who claimed right of way 
toll-free, refused to lower the draw to the holy father, and thus 
obliged him to attempt to cross at a ford lower down. There he 
encountered a weeping maiden, apparently unable to understand 
the language of the country. He fancied that she might belong to 
some party of pilgrims to St. Mary's, and politely offered her a seat 



'' THE monastery:' 327 

upon his saddle as far as the other bank. She at once, with mar- 
vellous alacrity, sprang to this seat, and accompanied him in an 
attempt to cross the river. But the water was deep, and the current 
was strong, so the riders drifted, — from bad to worse, till, sud- 
denly, the remarkable young woman energetically ducked her ven- 
erable companion in the stream, and then disappeared, before he 
could recover the land and his usual senses, singing as she went, — 

'• Landed — landed ! the black book hath won, 
Else had you seen Berwick with morning sun ! 
Sain ye, and save ye, and blithe mot ye be, 
For seldom they land that go swimming with me." 

She was the mysterious White Lady, who afterwards continually 
appeared, to cause much disturbance or strange action through the 
story. In this fording adventure she proved the significance of 
some of her words, by carrying off the Bible that the holy father 
was removing to safe-keeping from a place where it might serve to 
propagate " heresy." Nor was this then all of her attention to the 
book ; for when the affair was known at the monastery, and com- 
munication was had with Glendearg, it was discovered that this 
same mysterious being had restored the Bible to the owner. The 
monastic authorities took it again, however. 

Eventually we are introduced to acquaintance with the daily life 
at the monastery during a considerable period. As before re- 
marked, on these pages, the " Lay " shows us that great institution 
when in its glory, with the impressive effects of moon-hghted perfect 
architectural beauty, and of splendid and solemn service ; " The 
Abbot," as has also been remarked, shows it when the iconoclast 
had marked its doom ; and this story shows it when, in a transition 
period, its not little perplexed rulers were endeavoring to avoid 
threatening dangers, to preserve its influence and estate, and to 
keep back the rising spirit of " heresy " from attacks upon the 
Church. 

Meanwhile, at Glendearg, the young Glendinnings and Mary 
Avenel were growing older together, and with some not unnatural 
results. The two former were becoming jealous of each other about 
the young lady, who was increasing in beauty and attractiveness. 
The apparently inevitable White Spirit had her part in these rela- 
tions. Halbert invoked her assistance, and, in the " glen of the Cor- 
ri-nan-shian," a secluded s]30t not far distant, she responded with 
many rhymes (a style of expression she adopted), and thence took 



338 '' THE monastery:' 

him down through earth into a crystal grotto. There she showed 
him the Bible, again taken from the monks, upon a flaming altar, 
from which she enabled him to seize it and to bear it back to the 
glen, in order that he might explore its mysteries, that he thought 
were influencing the lives of those around him. " For," said he, " I 
will learn why the Lady of Avenel loved it ; why the priests feared, 
and would have stolen it," and why the Spirit has twice recovered 
it from their hands. And the Spirit, committing it to him, spoke to 
him those well-known solemn words, so truthfully recorded by -the 
great writer of romance, — 

" Within that awful volume lies 
The mystery of mysteries ! 
Happiest they of human race, 
To whom God has granted grace 
To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, 
To lift the latch, and force the way ; 
And better had they ne'er been born, 
Who read to doubt, or read to scorn." 

Halbert, returning to Glendearg at night, concealed under a floor 
the precious book, — again, later in the story, to be an object of 
strange influence and action. Social hfe at the tower was just then 
varied by the advent and sojourn there of a fashionable cavalier. Sir 
Piercie Shafton, who had got himself up as a choice spirit, mod- 
elled after the then admired Euphues and his England, and who 
was rather inexplicably quartered thus by direction of the lord 
abbot of St. Mary's. Not long time, however, elapsed before Hal- 
bert's regard for Mary Avenel rendered him jealous of the knight, 
and produced a violent quarrel between the two gentlemen. Hal- 
bert again invoked the White Lady, and then fought Sir Piercie, 
who was wounded, and who, strangely enough, disappeared in ill 
condition. Halbert, although he was known to have fought Sir 
Piercie, could not give account of his antagonist's fate. Circum- 
stances consequently caused him to decide to take refuge at Avenel 
Castle. There, accompanied by a friend, Henry Warden, a Prot- 
estant preacher, he experienced a remarkable visit. Smailholm 
Tower, described on pages 313-15, is, as there stated, a supposed 
original of the castle. This tower, as also before mentioned, is the 
opening scene of the novel forming a sort of continuation to this, — 
" The Abbot." There Halbert found himself and his friend at last, 
prisoners of its fierce lord, Juhan Avenel, from whom they had 
particularly good reason for desiring to escape. Halbert was con- 



" THE monastery:' 329 

fined in the basement, — a strong room, it will be remembered, 
having only small grated windows. From one of these he suc- 
ceeded in reaching the rocks outside. Thence, diving into the lake 
(then larger than now), and swimming to the main shore, he gained 
the open country and the road to Edinburgh, whither further devel- 
opment of his affairs called him. Meanwhile Sir Piercie Shafton, 
who had disappeared, returned to Glendearg, and in his turn found 
himself in a suspicious position ; for of Halbert, who had not been 
there since the duel, he could give no account. Confusion ensued. 
Sir Piercie, accused of murdering Halbert, was threatened violently 
by Edward Glendinning, and finally confined in the lower part of 
the tower. From this imprisonment he was released by a person 
who had before appeared in the story, though not before alluded to 
here, — Mysie Happer, daughter of Hob the Miller of the Vale. 
She was a simple girl, upon whom the elaborate manners, dress, 
and language of the knight (a good-looking man), had made pro- 
found impression. She felt such sympathy and apprehension for 
his security, that she braved the possible consequences of liberating 
him and of escaping with him, disguised as his page. 

The chief characters and topographical features of the story have 
all been introduced, when it attains this degree of development ; 
accordingly the sketch of the remainder here may present less 
detail. The affairs of the family at Glendearg, and of the com- 
munity at St. Mary's, became more complicated. Edward Glen- 
dinning, finding his brother had not been killed, but existed, a 
living and more successful lover of Mary Avenel, entered holy 
orders. Ultimately, a great English raid swept through the coun- 
try, producing farther changes, during which Julian Avenel was 
killed, and his wife died, and Halbert Glendinning seized their 
infant child. Mary Avenel became converted to the Reformed 
faith. The storm of war and violence rolling on, gathered around 
the ancient abbey ; and Murray, Regent of Scotland, and the Earl 
of Morton, with their forces, appeared at Kennaquhair. There, among 
the concluding scenes of the novel, occurred one of those mem- 
orable incidents experienced by so many great and venerable mo- 
nastic institutions. Dangers had thickened, till, at length, the Holy 
Fathers were called upon to meet men who might doom their stately 
structure to decay, and their fraternity to dispersion, after both had, 
in some form, existed there " since the first light of Christianity " in 
those regions. " The whole bells of the abbey . . . added their peal 



330 ''THE monastery:' 

to the death-toll of the largest," wrote Scott. " The monks wept 
and prayed as they got themselves into the order of their proces- 
sion for the last time, as seemed but too probable. . . . The great 
gate of the abbey was flung open, and " they " moved slowly forward 
from beneath its huge and richly adorned gateway. Cross and 
banner, pix and chalice, shrines containing relics, and censers 
steaming with incense, preceded and were intermingled with the" 
extended and solemn array of the Fathers, who appeared " in their 
long black gowns and cowls, with their white scapularies hanging 
over them." Each of the various officers of the convent displayed 
his proper badge of office. " In the centre of the procession came 
the abbot, surrounded and supported by his chief assistants. He 
was dressed in his habit of high solemnity, and appeared as much 
unconcerned as if he had been taking his usual part in some ordi- 
nary ceremony. After him came the inferior persons of the con- 
vent ; the novices in their albs or white dresses, and the lay 
brethren, distinguished by their beards, which were seldom worn 
by the Fathers. Women and children, mixed with a few men, came 
in the rear, bewaihng the apprehended desolation of their ancient 
sanctuary. ... In this order the procession entered the market- 
place of the village of Kennaquhair, which was then, as now, dis 
tinguished by an ancient cross of curious workmanship, the gift ot 
some former monarch of Scotland." Around this, " the monks 
formed themselves, each in their due place." The chant they had 
been singing was stilled. The lamentations of the populace were 
hushed. The men of Fate appeared ; and, as they approached, the 
brotherhood chanted the solemn psalm, De profundis clainavi. All 
this scene, with incidents yet unmentioned here, can still be pic- 
tured well at the cross of Melrose. Existing, though altered, and 
coeval with the abbey, " still it watches o'er the town." The upper 
part with the arms seems to have disappeared after the Reformation, 
and the structure to have been purified by substituting a unicorn 
and the royal insignia of Scotland for the entire emblem of salva- 
tion. During the momentous interview before it, described in the 
story, there was disagreement, even to quarrelling, and even between 
the two great earls whose coming had caused the commotion. 
Mary Avenel, indeed, became a subject of dispute, and her dispo- 
sal in marriage was not very privately argued, — and more with 
regard to other considerations than her affections. But all being 
well that ends well, good came of this trying visit. H albert Glen- 



''THE monastery:' 331 

dinning secured for his bride Mary Avenel, then an heiress ; the 
abbot retained, for a while at least, his estabhshment in no worse 
condition than before ; and, quite as curiously, though perhaps less 
importantly. Sir Piercie Shafton, who had become a conspicuous 
subject of the disagreeing and debating, reappeared, to be proven 
the grandson of a tailor, — one old Overstitch of Holderness, — 
and also to be proven the doer of some rather desirable justice to 
his page, Mysie Happer, by marrying her, — "his lovely Mysinda," 
as he termed her. Thus Halbert Glendinning became Knight of 
Avenel. Both he and his lady, staunch Protestants, are again 
introduced to us in " The Abbot," childless, and the early guar- 
dians of Roland Graeme. Edward Glendinning again Hved at 
Glendearg, then comparatively deserted, also again to reappear in 
" The Abbot," and as a zealous and active Catholic. Once more, 
and for the last time, he saw the mysterious White Spirit, " seated 
by her accustomed haunt, and singing, in her usual low and sweet 
tone," — 

" Fare thee well, thou Holly green I 
Thou shalt seldom now be seen . . . 
The knot of fate at length is tied, 
The Churl is Lord, the Maid is bride. 
Vainly did my magic sleight 
Send the lover from her sight ; 
Wither bush, and perish well, 
Fall'n is lofty Avenel ! " 

" The vision seemed to weep while she sung ; and the words im- 
pressed on Edward a melancholy belief, that the alliance of Mary 
with his brother might be fatal to them both." And here this 
sketch, directing to the places in which the incidents of Scott's 
story occurred, ends, where also ends his pleasant narration of 
some of the later fortunes of " The Monastery." 

These visits to the scenes of this novel, — scenes such favorites 
with its great author, — and to his homes during boyhood and the 
full glory of manhood ; to the wonderful panorama of historic, 
poetic, and romantic associations living in the fair and varied 
scenery presented from Eildon Hill ; to the great Tweed-dale relics 
of ancient art and piety ; and to that shrine at Dryburgh, where 
all of him that is mortal reposes, — to all this region so peculiarly 
"^ The Land of Scott," may well make us think, at our departure 



332 " THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR:' 

from it, of Childe Harold's " vain adieu " to the river Rhine, and 
feel of our farewell, that, like his, — 

" 'Tis with the thankful glance of parting praise : 
More mighty spots may rise — more glaring shine, 
But none unite in one attaching maze 

The brilliant, fair, and soft, — the glories of old days." 

The direct way of return to Edinburgh, by rail, leads up the Vale 
of Gala Water, past the Lammermuir and the Pentland Hills, and 
past Crichton Castle, celebrated in " Marmion " (page 43), and 
Bothwick and Dalhousie (both worth visiting, and only a short 
distance from the hne). 

Through this pleasant country the Scottish Capital may be 
reached from Melrose, or a route equally interesting may be found 
by Berwick to the chief scenery sketched in the next chapter. 



XXXVI. 

" The Bride of Lammermoor." 

Eighth Novel 0/ the Series ; Written 1818-19; Published loth June., 1819, 
Aiithor's age, 48 ; Time of action, about 1711. 

'T^RAVELLERS departing from Edinburgh by the main line of 
-*- the North British Railway, on the route proposed to Eng- 
land, can, before leaving Scotland, make interesting excursions 
on the way. By the branch to North Berwick, it is possible, on 
one fine day, to visit from that town the Law, a great solitary, 
conical hill, nine hundred and forty feet high, conspicuous through 
all that region, and even at Edinburgh ; and then, three miles 
along the coast, the massive ruins of Tantallon Castle, chief strong- 
hold of the earls of Douglas, and thus famous in the latter part 
of " Marmion " (pages 46-50), as scene of one of the most stir- 
ring episodes in that stirring poem ; and, finally, to visit The Bass 
Rock, an insulated mass of precipitous crags, two miles from 
shore, rising so grandly over four hundred feet above the sea. By 
carriage, or by walking, it is possible in half a day to visit, from 
Grant's House Station on the line, the remains of Fast Castle, 
overlooking the German Ocean, amid scenery worth visiting on 



''THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOORr 333 

account of its pictiiresqueness, and yet more attractive for its asso- 
ciations with many of the chief incidents of this novel. From the 
same railway line there is convenient access to the battle-fields of 
Pinkie (1547, page 258) and of Preston Pans (1745, pages 15, 145, 
and 258) ; and, from Tranent, the interesting Jacobian mansion, 
Wintoun House, the reputed original of Ravenswood Castle, a 
prominent place in this story. About half a dozen miles from 
Linton Station is Garvald Tower, the reputed original of Earnscliff 
(page 283) in " The Black Dwarf." At Dunbar are the extensive, 
shattered ruins of a sea-side stronghold, once famous, and even 
now impressive and interesting. 

Fast Castle is, perhaps, however, of all these places, the one 
whose associations are the most romantic. The sad but fascinating 
tale that Scott has told us of Lucy Ashton and Edgar Ravenswood 
invests this lonely yet noble and charming spot with an enchant- 
ment not among the lesser creations of his spirit. 

" The Bride of Lammermoor," a poem in prose, and one of 
Scott's best compositions, has continued since its publication to be 
one of the most favorite, although one of the most tragic, of his 
stories. In its preparation he spent a longer time than he usually 
devoted to similar works, and adopted a different mode. Severe 
and painful, even dangerous, illness was upon him, confining him 
at least to a sofa-bed, preventing him from writing, and obliging 
him to employ amanuenses. One of these, John Ballantyne, was 
rapid and clerkly, and preferred ; the other was William Laidlaw, 
his steward, a reduced gentleman, and an intimate, cordial, enter- 
taining, and admiring friend. As he heard the story flowing from 
the author's lips, he could not suppress interruptions by exclama- 
tions of delight, such as " Gude keep us a'! — the like o' that! — 
eh sirs ! eh sirs ! " While thus dictating, Scott would often turn 
" himself on his pillow, with a groan of torment," yet usually con- 
tinue " the sentence with the same breath. But when dialogue of 
peculiar animation was in progress, spirit seemed to triumph alto- 
gether over matter ; he arose from his couch, and walked up and 
down the room, raising and lowering his voice, and, as it were, 
acting the parts. It was in this fashion that Scott produced the far 
greater portion of ' The Bride of Lammermoor,' the whole of ' The 
Legend of Montrose,' and almost the whole of ' Ivanhoe.' " The 
first work (says James Ballantyne, publisher) " was not only written 
but published before Mr. Scott was able to rise from his bed ; " 



334 " ^^^^ BRIDE OF LAMMERMOORy 

and " when it was first put into his hands in a complete shape," he 
could recollect only its merest outlines, — none of its development 
" with which he was connected as the writer of the work." 

The chief characters and incidents of this masterly story, thus 
composed, have their originals in realities ; though, as evidently 
necessary, the former must be disguised to prevent too apparent 
personal allusions. And thus some minor anachronisms may be 
detected by the very critical. The general character of the story 
is so widely known that it hardly requires any sketch. A prominent 
law-lord, Sir William Ashton, rising from lower to higher hfe, and 
married to a proud woman who fancied herself of superior rank, 
had an unusually beautiful daughter, who, through the ambition of 
her parents, was forced to discard a worthy lover of high rank, 
though impoverished, and to marry a rich and eligible neighbor, 
whom she detested, and thus to cause the tragedy so impressively 
presented in this novel. Sir WiUiam Ashton is said to be por- 
trayed from Sir John Nisbet of Dirleton, who strikingly resembled 
iiim in many respects. The first Lord Stair is also said to be the 
original of Sir William ; and incidents in the life of his daughter 
much increase the resemblance, as also does the character of his 
wife. The latter persons might indeed appear to be preserved in 
an enduring family picture in this story, had not Scott, in his Intro- 
duction to this work, disclaimed " any idea of tracing the portrait 
of the first Lord Viscount Stair in the tricky and mean-spirited Sir 
Wilham Ashton. Lord Stair, whatever might be his moral quali- 
ties, was certainly one of the first statesmen and lawyers of his 
age." 

In a rare volume, the " Tripatriarchicon," by Rev. Andrew Sym- 
son, are two elegies on the originals of " The Bride " and her 
bridegroom. The first is " On the unexpected death of the vertuous 
Lady, Mrs. Janet Dalrymple, Lady Baldone, Younger," and is 
entitled " Dialogus inter advenam et servum domesticum." It will 
not quite bear comparison with Scott's memorial words. The 
other, astonishingly apostrophizes the gentleman concerned, evi- 
dently a friend to the reverend poet, who bursts forth, — 

" So that my Muse, 'gainst Priscian, avers, 
^®' 1 Hediiow^ '"'^^^ ^y Parishioners, 
Yea. and my { °;^^^^^^ Hearers. O that I 
Had pow'r to eternize his Memory." 



« THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOORy 335 

" I'd rear an everlasting monument, 
A curious structure, of a large extent, — 
A brave and stately pile, that should outbid 
^Egyptian Cheep's costly Pyramid." 

Another character in this story, though a minor character, yet 
trery celebrated, Caleb Balderstone, the last retainer of the impov- 
erished and rejected suitor, is said to have been portrayed from 
Andrew Davidson, a reduced gentleman, who became a landlord 
" in the south country " (where a great many of the author's proto- 
types flourished), and who exhibited many of the magniloquent 
Caleb's ingenious devices. The originals of the Ravenswood fam- 
ily are said to have been the former lords of Innerwick Castle, now 
in ruins, near the railway between Dunbar and Cockburnspath. 
The ancient castle of Ravenswood is also said to be designed from 
Dunglass, a mansion on the site of a celebrated castle blown up in 
1640. Certain of the general resemblances mentioned here are 
said to have been acknowledged by Scott. 

This story, as is well known, has received the doubtful compliment 
of attention from an Italian opera librettist, who has mangled it into 
a sort of drama far inferior to Scott's design. To this drama are 
given compensatingly, however, delightful harmonies of Donizetti, 
that at Fast Castle we may now seem to hear, blending with the 
voices of the sea and the wind, perpetually sounding around 
the wild cliffs and crumbling walls associated with the pathetic 
fortunes of the last heir of Ravenswood, and of her whom he 
loved. 

The action of the story began on a dull November morning, at 
an "ancient and half-ruinous tower, in which Lord Ravenswood," 
reduced from former affluence and state, " had spent the last and 
troubled years of his hfe," and from which he was then being borne 
to burial by his only son and a large assemblage of tory neighbors 
and retainers. The service, contrary to the style of religion then 
in force in Scotland, was according to the Episcopal form, and as 
such was interrupted, though then unavailingly, by a Presbyterian 
officer. This scene was in an old chapel, said to be designed from 
Coldingham Priory, now a beautiful fragment of Early- Pointed work, 
incorporated in a parish church, situated a few miles from Fast 
Castle, already mentioned, the reputed original of the " ancient 
tower" of Ravenswood, — Wolf's Crag. Indeed, Scott himself, 
diplomatically wrote that the former resembles the latter " as much 



336 " THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR:' 

as any other ; while its vicinity to the mountain ridge of Lammei- 
moor renders the assimilation a probable one," 

Fast Castle, as before stated, rewards a visit by its striking pic- 
turesqueness, apart from its fascinating associations with " The 
Bride." And it illustrates, quite as vividly as the keeps and peels 
already visited, conditions of higher domestic Hfe during the period 
of Border warfare, though in a different phase. It is about half-a- 
dozen miles from Cockburnspath or Grant's House Stations, by a 
tolerable carriage road through an open, hilly country, except for 
the last half-mile, when the way is across grassy sheep-pastures 
patched over with heather, and then a steeply sloping field (flour- 
ishing with turnips at the time of the writer's visit). After reading 
the novel, one may think that the place hardly agrees with the usu- 
ally imagined picture of it ; but, reaching the cHfF, one finds, after 
all, a very charming out-of-the-way spot. Scott's descriptions of 
the approach, and of the scene at the time he represents, are given 
later in the story, when he shows us Ravenswood and the man 
whose bride Miss Ashton became, — Bucklaw, — on the way thither. 
" The roar of the sea," Scott wrote, " had long announced their 
approach to the cliffs, on the summit of which, like the nest of some 
sea-eagle, the founder of the fortalice had perched his eyry, ... a 
solitary and naked tower, situated on a projecting cHff that beetled 
on the German Ocean. On three sides the rock was precipitous ; 
on the fourth, which was that towards the land, it had been origi- 
nally fenced by an artificial ditch and drawbridge ; but the latter 
was broken down and ruinous, and the former had been in part filled 
up, so as to allow passage for a horseman into the narrow courtyard, 
encircled on two sides with low offices and stables, partly ruinous, 
and closed ; on the landward front by a low embattled wall ; while 
the remaining side of the quadrangle was occupied by the tower 
itself, which, tall and narrow, and built of grayish stone, stood glim- 
mering in the moonlight, like the sheeted spectre of some huge 
giant. A wilder or more disconsolate dwelling it was perhaps 
difficult to conceive." 

Fast Castle, that we may suppose these riders reached, has a real 
history quite in keeping with its aspect. It was probably built as 
2arly as the beginning of the fourteenth century. It soon after 
belonged to the great Lords of Home, but has had many masters ; 
and there has been no little fighting around it and for it. In 1333, 
1410, and 1547, it fell ii^to control of Enghsh, from whom, in 1548, 



IRoai'i 



^ 



Cj AND 



miifiti^ 





" THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR:' 337 

it was retaken by stratagem. In 1567, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton 
described it as "fitter to lodge prisoners than folks at liberty." 
Three years later it was thought so strong that two thousand men 
were sent to invest it when garrisoned by only ten persons. About 
1580, by a marriage, it became the property of Sir Robert Logan 
of Restalrig, a notorious, unprincipled, dissolute, and impoverished 
representative of an old Leith family. Being "then one of the most 
impregnable places in the kingdom, and capable of defence success- 
fully by a very few desperate men," he held it as a retreat in his not 
infrequent desperate emergencies. Through his plotting. Fast Castle 
came within the compass of operations proposed by the celebrated 
Gowrie Conspiracy, with which he was prominently connected. 
This plot was with the Earl of Gowrie, of Gowrie House, Perth 
(page 235) in the year 1600, for the abduction of James VI., thence 
by a boat down the Tay, and then by sea to Fast Castle, there " to 
seclude him from assistance and intercourse in the dungeons," and 
hold him at " the disposal of Queen Elizabeth or of the conspira- 
tors." Logan's part in this plot was not known until nine years 
after his death. This proposed visit of King James to Fast Castle 
is not the only one by which it is associated with royalty. " In 
1503 the Princess Margaret of England first halted" there "in her 
progress from the English Border to Edinburgh, to become the 
consort of James IV." 

As if to invest this curious place with all the attributes of wild- 
ness and mystery, Logan and Francis, Earl of Bothwell, conjectur- 
ing that treasure was concealed in the " dom-daniel " or keep, 
attempted to discover it both by digging and by practice of the 
" Black Art." These means failed, and Logan made a contract, 
now extant, with the well-known mathematician, John Napier, of 
Merchiston, an adept in the occult sciences, to search for the 
" soum of monie " supposed to be there ; but tiie results of this 
more scientific investigation were quite as unremunerative. 

The remains of the castle, as already described, are upon an almost 
isolated rock that rises directly from the sea, and is accessible only 
on one side. The height of this rock is about seventy feet above 
the water ; and its area at the top is only about one hundred and 
twenty by sixty feet. The castle, once very much such a structure 
as Scott described, although possibly a little more irregular, is now 
a mere wreck, presenting a broken side of a square, low keep, and 
a yet more broken fragment directly over the extreme outer point 



338 ''THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR." 

of the rock. It was built of small, split stones, mostly dark slate 
color, now varied by a few gray lichens, and had red sandstone bat- 
tlements. This latter stone appears to have been used to some 
extent internally, as shown by remains of a simple, pointed, arched 
apartment, either the hall or chapel. The rock is, at some points, 
nearly sheer in descent to the sea, but oftener irregularly sloped 
from 60° to 75°. Along the main shore, the banks are generally 
higher and steeper. Hills rise quite loftily back from these, present- 
ing grass slopes, and commanding the castle site in such a manner 
that it would not now be defensible. The general view around is 
wide and noble, so much so, that a patriotic writer asserts that 
"imagination can add nothing to its splendor." In all directions 
eastward is the broad, heaving ocean, its never-ceasing, rolling 
surge breaking with reverberations like thunder along the bases of 
the cliffs. Northward is a succession of craggy, red sandstone 
headlands, backed by fair, yellow grain-fields or green pastures of 
the pleasant Berwickshire coast. Southward extends another suc- 
cession of cliffs, but higher, with faces of bleached gray, rising 
above wildly broken rocks, torn and blackened by the beating 
waves. Varying the view, St. Abb's Head presents towards the sea 
abrupt precipices nearly three hundred feet high. Portions of its 
natural features appear to have been drawn by Scott in his descrip- 
tions of Wolf's Crag. Great hills inland close well the view in that 
direction from the castle. Not a few of the engraved illustrations 
of this region, it may be remarked, are more imaginative than exact. 

At this lonely, wild, and weird refuge, we may accordingly imag- 
ine, after the burial of the elder Lord Ravenswood, Edgar, his son 
and sole heir, living solitary and comfortless, — the representative 
of an ancient but decayed family. Their chief seat, a few miles dis- 
tant, had been obtained by one whom they regarded with great 
aversion, — Sir William Ashton, a successful law-lord, who has 
perhaps been sufficiently described here, who resided at it in a 
luxurious style that contrasted strongly with the impoverishment 
and discomfort at Wolf's Crag. 

A romantic incident soon rendered the young lord — "The Mas- 
ter of Ravenswood," as he was called in his broken estate — and 
the Ashtons more intimately acquainted. Sir William, with his 
daughter, one day for some reason visited a certain Alice Gray, an 
old tenant of the Ravenswoods, who lived in a forest at considera- 
ble distance. This aged, sibyl-like woman warned them of the new 



''THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOORy 339 

representative of a race who felt that the Ashtons were robbers and 
iiitruders, and who accordingly hated them. Sir William and Miss 
Ashton on their return home were attacked by a wild bull, from 
which they were rescued by a well-directed shot fired by this very 
Ravenswood, who was opportunely near. Miss Ashton fainted. Her 
deliverer was left to take her to a neighboring spring called the 
Mermaid's Fountain, — a place that bore pecuharly fatal associations 
with the fortunes of his family. And thus began the acquaintance 
between Edgar of Ravenswood and Lucy of Lammermoor, that 
grew to love celebrated with that of Romeo and Juliet, and that of 
Faust and Margaret, but far nobler than the German's passion. 
Sir William's thankful acknowledgments were hardly accepted by 
the rescuer of his daughter, who quickly ended this interview 
with her. From it he went to a rather distant roadside inn. There 
he met two Jacobites (with whose party he and his father were 
involved ; for it was then not inactive). From this rendezvous he 
went, through a duel, and a very dark, gloomy country, to Wolf's 
Crag, accompanied by the Laird of Bucklaw, a near neighbor, who, 
just then, for pohtical reasons, was obliged to conceal himself. 

The two arrived, as already narrated in the quotation from 
Scott descriptive of the castle. Thus we are introduced to the 
very quiet life at that retired residence, and to the various inge- 
nious devices of the old butler, Caleb Balderstone, — a hfe-long 
servant of the Ravenswoods, — to maintain the family dignity, and 
supply the table by the scantiest of means. One day, however, the 
Master and his guest, to vary their monotonous existence, joined a 
hunt in the neighborhood, with which Sir William Ashton and his 
daughter were also engaged. A storm overtook them ; and the two 
latter accompanied Ravenswood to Wolf's Crag for shelter. This 
accession of company put poor Caleb at his wits' end. SuppHes 
for dinner were utterly wanting, and he was forced to desperate 
measures. He pretended that thunder and soot had invaded the 
kitchen through the chimney, and spoiled a delicious and abundant 
repast ; and then, with a heavy heart and with serious misgivings, 
he set forth for Wolf's Hope. This was a little hamlet, a sort of 
forlorn hope, not far off, though it is not now perceptible from Fast 
Castle. On its inhabitants Caleb had, in dire emergencies, been 
accustomed to levy a sort of feudal tribute, under which the people 
had become very restless. To render his necessary exactions in this 
case as moderate, or rather as successful, as possible, he had judi- 



340 



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.'' 



ciously limited the threatening inroad on his resources, by delib- 
erately shutting out from the castle Bucklaw and others of the 
huntsmen, immensely to Bucklaw's rage, and by sending them to the 
village ale-house for entertainment. This bold effort produced an 
immediate challenge by Bucklaw of the innocent and unconscious 
Master of Ravenswood. The messenger who bore this challenge, 
one Captain Craigengelt (already introduced in the story), however, 
encountered Caleb, who returned from Wolf's Hope in time to ex- 
clude him from the tower. Caleb's strategy in securing provisions 
from a christening feast at the chief villager's house should be read 
as Scott has described it, — a housekeeping adventure that had 
a counterpart in fact. The dinner, necessarily long delayed, was 
served, and attended with results and incidents far more important, 
than those caused by the butler in his struggles with adversity, for 
meanwhile Edgar of Ravenswood became reconciled to Sir Wil- 
liam Ashton, and accepted the latter's invitation to return with him 
to Ravenswood Castle. The Master's decision was vehemently 
opposed by his faithful servant, who, among other dissuasive words, 
quoted an ancient prophecy. 

" Thomas the Rhymer," said Caleb, " whose tongue couldna be 
fause, spoke the word of your house that will e'en prove ower true 
if you go to Ravenswood." And " with a quavering voice " he 
repeated an old saying respecting the family, — 

" When the last Laird of Ravenswood to Ravenswood shall ride, 
And woo a dead maiden to be his bride, 
He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's flow, 
And his name shall be lost for evermoe ! " 

" I know the Kelpie's flow well enough," said the Master ; " I 
suppose, at least, you mean the quicksand betwixt this tower and 
Wolf's Hope ; but why any man in his senses should stable a steed 
there " — 

" Oh, never speer ony thing about that, sir," interposed Caleb. 
" God forbid we should ken what the prophecy means ; but just 
bide you at hame." 

But the Master did not bide there. With the strange rhyme 
ringing, he went to the ominous mansion. There he grew more 
and more enamoured with the daughter of its new lord ; and, 
although again weirdly warned — then by the sibyl-like Alice Gray 
— to quit the Ashton family, he remained, and loved more ardently, 
and blindly perhaps, until at the Mermaid's Fountain — that place 



" THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR:' 34 1 

ot fatal associations to his family — he plighted his troth with Lucy 
Ashton. She was indeed one for whom a less impulsive man than 
Edgar Ravenswood might cherish irresistible passion. She was, 
wrote Scott, one whose " exquisitely beautiful, yet somewhat girl- 
ish features, were formed to express peace of mind, serenity, and 
indifference to the tinsel of worldly pleasure. Her locks, which 
were of shadowy gold, divided on a brow of exquisite whiteness, 
like a gleam of broken and pallid sunshine upon a hill of snow. 
The expression of the countenance was in the last degree gentle, 
soft, timid, and feminine, and seemed rather to shrink from the most 
casual look of a stranger, than to court his admiration. Something 
there was of a Madonna cast, perhaps the result of delicate health, 
and of residence in a family where the dispositions of the inmates 
were fiercer, more active and energetic than her own." Loving 
legendary and romantic tales, she delighted to conjure around her 
their scenes of ardent affection or picturesque adventure. In these, 
she seemed hving with her lover, — one capable of inspiring most 
captivatingly her imagination. From this dream of delight, how- 
ever, both were rudely awakened, by the appearance of Lady 
Ashton at the castle, from which she had been some time absent. 
Penetrating, proud, and determined, she soon realized the position 
of affairs, and how this conflicted with her own designs. Dismiss- 
ing Ravenswood from the castle, she soon made her daughter 
aware that a suit of Bucklaw for her hand, and thus for alliance 
of his estates with those of the Ashtons, was to be pressed speedily 
to matrimonial consummation. At this juncture, the Marquis of 

A , accompanied by a powerful friend, visited Wolf's Crag. 

Caleb's artifices were exhibited again there instead of much hospi- 
tahty ; but Ravenswood formed with these guests certain new 
arrangements that promised, in some good measure, restoration of 
his fortunes, and attainment of a position that could hardly be 
slightingly viewed by Lady Ashton herself. In furtherance of 
these arrangements he went to Edinburgh with the marquis, and 
thence to the continent on state affairs, — one of the first develop- 
ments of which was the removal of Sir William Ashton from the 
office of Lord Keeper of Scotland. 

Meanwhile the unhappy Lucy grew ill, enduring all the misery 
of wounded love and of tyranny that was forcing her from a union 
that would be bliss to a doom that she regarded with horror. But 
her unreieniiing mother urged forward the ambitious plans by which 



34-2 ''THE BRIDE OF lammermoor:' 

increase of estate should be obtained, until the catastrophe came 
In presence of the family, the distressed young lady was obliged t(» 
sign a marriage contract with Bucklaw. But while her hand was 
tracing the signature, " the hasty tramp of a horse was heard at the 
gate, succeeded by a step in the outer gallery, and a voice, which, in 
a commanding tone, bore down the opposition of the menials. The 
pen dropped from Lucy's fingers, as she exclaimed, with a fair.t 
shriek, ' He is come ! he is come ! ' " and Edgar of Ravenswood 
entered. 

Let one when in the quaint rooms at Wintoun House, with their 
great fireplaces and heavy mouldings, or at Dunglass or some 
other impressive mansion of the seventeenth century, imagine the 
meeting of these lovers, and the outburst of impassioned feeling with 
which the injured lord encountered the cruel wrong done him and 
her who was dearest to him ; imagine the atrocious ambition of the 
proud mother, the fatally false positions into which she forced her 
distracted daughter and the deceived suitor ; and, finally, the part- 
ing of the lovers, separated in mutual misunderstanding by these 
odious means. " I am still Edgar Ravenswood," he had said to 
Miss Ashton ; " that Edgar Ravenswood, who, for your affection, 
renounced the dear ties by which injured honor bound him to seek 
vengeance. I am that Ravenswood, who, for your sake, forgave, 
nay, clasped hands in friendship with, the oppressor and pillager of 
his house — the traducer and murderer of his father; . . . that 
Ravenswood to whom you granted the solemn engagement, which 
you now desire to retract and cancel." Lucy's bloodless lips could 
only falter out the words, " It was my mother." The fierce will and 
cold heart of Lady Ashton soon accomplished her purpose. She, 
and an attending clergyman, declared that the new contract was 
Miss Ashton's free act. Immediately the lovers returned to each 
other signed papers and the halves of a broken coin, evidences of 
their engagement. Edgar of Ravenswood, wronged, deceived, des- 
perate, left the Ashtons, feehng the agony of love betrayed, and, 
keener than ever before, his sacrifices so worse than unavailingly 
made ; " the honor of an ancient family, the urgent advice of " his 
" best friends " all " in vain used to sway " his " resolution. Neither 
the arguments of reason, nor the portents of superstition have 
shaken my fidehty," he said to her whom he had lost. " The very 
dead have arisen to warn me, and their warning has been de- 
spised." Still he had been faithful to her and to the promise he had 



FROM SCOTLAND TO ENGLAND. 343 

made her ; but then, beguiled while he left her, to final words 
upbraiding her for breaking — as he, most sadly mistaken, believed 
— the vow she had made, praying God that she might " not become 
a world's wonder for this act of wilful and dehberate perjury." 

While we remain — as we may be supposed yet to remain — by 
the crumbling walls of Fast Castle, we can imagine the last Ravens- 
wood, with the portentous words of the Rhymer's prophecy haunting 
him, closing the tragic story of the romantic and intense affection 
that, even to her sad death, bound Lucy Ashton to him. And there, 
too, we can imagine, mingled with the wild, deep bass of the rolling 
surge below, the sorrowful tones of those plaintive harmonies that 
Donizetti has given to her in " Presso alia tomba io sono ; " and 
Edgar's words, " Tomba degli avi miei, 1' ultimo avanzo d' un stirpe 
infehce, deh ! raccogliete voi ; " and those thriUing notes express- 
ing his strong, true passion, — 

" Tu, che a Dio spiegasti P ali, 
O bell' alma innamorata." 

Nor can we there refuse to remember the aged and faithful stew- 
ard, who, when his master had gone for ever, lingered around the 
deserted castle " with a fidelity sometimes displayed by the canine 
race, but seldom by human beings," and wore out the short rem- 
nant of his life sorrowing over the fate of the race for which he had 
lived. 

And ever where the winds sweep resounding across the great 
hills of East Lothian, or the broader expanse of the German Sea ; 
where they rustle through the upland heather, or fan the grass on 
the cliffs under the walls of Fast Castle, will they tell the mournful 
and touching story, and breathe the plaintive requiem, of " The 
Bride of Lammermoor." 



XXXVIL 

From Scotland to England. 

'T^HOSE who follow the route sketched on these pages are 

-*- supposed to leave Scotland now, after visits to nearly all the 

scenery and objects in that country associated with the creations 

af Sir Walter Scott, or celebrated for remains of its ancient art, or 



344 FROM SCOTLAND TO ENGLAND. 

interesting for their suggestions of domestic life in its times past 
or fascinating with charms imparted them by its abounding historic, 
poetic, and romantic literature. This route, again entering Eng- 
land, and prolonged through nearly its entire extent, conducts to 
scenes equally, and not infrequently more, celebrated by their 
associations with the same classes of attractions. 

The North British railway, that carries travellers from the vicin- 
ity of Fast Castle, described in the last chapter, leads to Berwick 
and the frontier. To the left of the road are often picturesque 
views along the coast, and, here and there, directly down rough 
crags, upon the surging sea that beats against their base. At Ber- 
wick, the line passes directly over much of the site of the ancient cas- 
tle that was, during generations, an object of contention between the 
powers of the South and of the North. The Tweed, there "broad 
and deep" indeed, will be crossed by a long and lofty bridge, — 
happily and graphically named " the last Act of the Union between 
England and Scotland," — that commands a wide view over river, 
city, and country, and, close beneath, the celebrated old bridge, — 
an important link between the two countries in its earlier days, 
narrow and low though it thence appears. From town quarters in 
Berwick, or country quarters at the " Blue Bell " in Belford not far 
beyond, several pleasant visits, already mentioned, can be made. 
From Berwick is easy access to Hahdon Hill, scene of Scott's 
drama named from it (chapter xlix). From Belford travellers can 
go about half a dozen miles to Chillingham Castle, a reputed origi- 
nal of Osbaldistone Hall in "Rob Roy" (page 165), and thence 
perhaps three miles to Horton Castle, said to be the " Inglewood 
Place " in the same story (page 165). 

Whether these places are really or not to be associated with 
Diana Vernon, a ride to them will give a pleasant prospect of the 
interesting bo'rder lands of Northumberland. From either Berwick 
or Belford is, westward, easy access to Norham Castle (page 35) 
and Flodden Field (page 51), scenes of the opening and closing of 
'• Marmion ; " and, eastward, to Holy Island, with its monastic 
relics, locality of such tragic episode in the same poem. In this 
direction, also, is the grand, seaside castle of Bamborough (page 
39). About thirty-five miles by rail southward from Berwick is 
Alnwick, with the stately castle and noble park of the dukes of 
Northumberland, and six miles farther south, the imposing and 
well-kept remains of Warkworth Castle, belonging to the same 



FROM SCOTLAND TO ENGLAND. 345 

lords, and, like Alnwick, once a stronghold of the famous Percys. 
About half a mile from Warkworth is the Hermitage, associated 
with the story of Bishop Percy's ballad, "The Hermit of Wark- 
worth." Indeed, this whole region, like nearly all England, is full 
of noticeable objects and places. Farther south is Newcastle, — a 
great, smoky, busy town, yet with picturesque interest. Twenty 
miles beyond it, and in the same direction, is the ancient city of 
Durham, that deserves more visits than it receives from Americans, 
lis castle, and its grand, stern cathedral, towering nobly above the 
river Wear, and their associations with " Harold the Dauntless," 
are described in the fifteenth chapter. From Durham is railway 
communication with Barnard Castle (page 80). There, and at 
Rokeby Park (pages 83-5), about three miles distant, are the pic- 
turesque locahties of the poem named from the latter place. Thence 
a pleasant excursion (page 82) can be made across the Yorkshire 
hills to Richmond, where one of the grandest " keeps " in Britain 
can be seen. Thence the railway leads, rather circuitously, to 
Ripon, the recently " restored " cathedral at which is well worth a 
visit. From this place is the usual departure (by carriage) to the 
ruins of Fountains Abbey, situated at a distance of about three 
miles, in the delightful park near Studley Royal. Travellers who 
can visit but one monastic, relic in England should perhaps select 
this ; for no other surpasses its combination of completeness, size, 
beauty of position, and architectural interest. In all Britain there 
is now probably no rehgious or benevolent institution, except the 
national hospital at Greenwich, that could compare in extent and 
grandeur with this abbey as it was during the days of its glory. 
Scarcely elsewhere can one so realize the magnificent comprehen- 
siveness, endowment, and effect of those wonderful monastic crea- 
tions of mediaeval piety, now mouldering into utter extinction ; 
scarcely elsewhere can be better realized the surroundings and 
material evidences of monkish hfe, and reproductions of it by Scott. 
The abbey originally covered ten acres, and even now presents a 
great array of buildings. The church, very large and noble, is, 
except the roof, almost entire. The woodlands, lawns, and hills 
around it are remarkably beautiful. The institution was founded 
about the year 1204, and attained great magnificence until it passed 
into a condition of desecration and desolation during the reign of 
Henry VIII. Fountains is now owned, and admirably preserved, 
by a distinguished nobleman honored among the Peacemakers. 



346 FROM SCOTLAND TO ENGLAND. 

A few miles from Ripon is Harrowgate, a pretty, rather rural 
watering-place, with chalybeate and sulphurous springs. A few 
miles farther towards York, is Knaresborough, with a once impor- 
tant but now shattered castle, and the curious St. Robert's chapel 
and cave (the latter intimately associated with Bulwer's story relat- 
ing Eugene Aram's crime). 

Every traveller in England visits, or ought to visit, the ancient 
city of York. It is not only large, busy, and historic, but one of the 
cathedral cities most deserving and repaying examination. Local 
guide-books describe its many attractions, only the chief of which 
can be mentioned here, — the glorious minster church of St. Petej. 
Since the year 627 divine service has been perpetual on its site. 
The existing edifice was built chiefly in the thirteenth century. 
Like other similar edifices, this has its own peculiar characteristic 
features, while it has also the generic character common to all. 
Here are a remarkable crypt, a very stately and almost unique 
choir that nearly equals the vast nave in size, an unsurpassed group 
of five lancet windows (in the north transept), and, near them, a 
superb chapter-house. The great central tower, about two hundred 
feet high, commands a wide view worth gaining. The present 
excellent condition, the beauty and the majesty, of this sacred struc- 
ture are delightful ; and may the piety that has long preserved it 
render it through coming time a like joy and blessing ! 

The route of this tour southward from York should be by the 
Great Northern line to the picturesque region in which is repre- 
sented much of the action of Scott's most splendid prose romance, 
" Ivanhoe." The period of this action is so remote (1194), and 
some of the scenes associated with it are so scattered, that we can 
hardly expect to find them all ; yet enough remain, or can be iden- 
tified, to show what they once were, and also how pleasant they 
now are, and how appropriately they suggest very much of the rude 
but interesting times of Old England, and the attractive characters 
of history, and the charms of ancient as well as modern romance, 
abounding as they do in associations with the Lion-hearted Rich- 
ard, knightly Ivanhoe, bold Robin Hood, and fair Maid Marian, 
Jolly Friar Tuck, and the Great Magician's Rebecca and Rowena, 
with tournaments, with Templar's pride and power, with '' church- 
man's pomp" or license, with baronial might, and with free life 
"under the greenwood tree" at Sherwood, and indeed the whole 
brilliant spectacle presented to us in Scott's delightful creation. 



''I VAN hoe:' 3I7 

XXXVIII. 

" IVANHOE." 

Tenth Novel of the Series ; Written iZiq ; Pnblished Dec. 18, 18 19; 
Author's age, 48 ; Time of action, 1194. 

» A S a work of art," wrote Lockhart, " ' Ivanhoe ' is perhaps the 
-^-^ first of all Scott's efforts, whether in prose or in verse." 
"It is a splendid poem," wrote Jeffrey, "and contains matter 
enough for six good tragedies." And these two opinions, of the 
very many ehcited, describe this work. It was received "with 
clamorous delight " by contemporaneous readers, and its publica- 
tion marked the most brilliant period of its author's history. The 
circumstances under which it was composed have been mentioned 
on page 333. Like most of " The Bride " it was written by amanu- 
enses. Portions, however, of the manuscript are closely and firmly 
written, — "many pages together, without one alteration," — in the 
handwriting of the author, who, we are told, considered about fifteen 
pages of the original edition a fair day's work. And we should 
remember that in no instance did he rewrite "prose before sending it 
to the press." This work appeared, in better style than its predeces- 
sors, in three post-octavo volumes, at ten shillings each, of which 
12,000 copies were speedily sold. "The name of Ivanhoe," wrote 
Scott in 1830, "was suggested by an old rhyme . . . recording three 
names of the manors forfeited by the ancestor of the celebrated 
Hampden, for striking the Black Prince a blow with his racket, 
when they quarrelled at tennis, — 

Tring, Wing, and Ivanhoe, 
For striking of a blow, 
Hampden did forego, 
And glad he could escape so." 

" The period of the narrative adopted (wrote Scott) was the 
reign of Richard I., not only as abounding with characters whose 
very names were sure to attract general attention, but as affording 
a striking contrast betwixt the Saxons, by whom the soil was culti- 
vated, and the Normans, who still reigned in it as conquerors, 
reluctant to mix with the vanquished, or acknowledge themselves 
of the same stock." Some, however, " of the ancient Saxon fami- 
ies possessed wealth and power, although they were exceptions." 



348 ''IVAN hoe:' 

At the beginning of the story we are introduced to the residence of 
one of these famihes, and to its social and topographical position. 

" In that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by 
the river Don (wrote the author), there extended in ancient times 
a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and 
valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleasant town of Don- 
caster. . . . Here haunted of yore the fabulous Dragon of Wantley ; 
here were fought many of the most desperate battles during the 
Civil Wars of the Roses ; and here also flourished in ancient times 
those bands of gallant outlaws, whose deeds have been rendered so 
popular in English song. Such being our chief scene, the date of 
our story refers to a period towards the end of the reign of Richard 
I., when his return from his long captivity had become an event 
rather wished than hoped for by his despairing subjects, who were, 
in the mean time, subjected to every species of subordinate oppres- 
sion." The power of the nobles had become very great, and each 
endeavored to render his castle a strong garrison, capable of such 
offence or defence as he might find desirable. "The situation of the 
inferior gentry, or Franklins, as they were called," was " unusually 
precarious." " Four generations had not sufficed to blend the hos- 
tile blood of the Normans and Anglo-Saxons," or to unite the two 
races "by common language and mutual interests." Living in this 
woodland district, and in this condition of society, Cedric, called the 
Saxon, held Rotherwood, — a low, irregular, but extensive building, 
defended by a double stockade and by a ditch. In the large but 
not high hall of this edifice he received a party that came rather by 
accident than upon invitation to share his hospitahty. Among this 
party were representative men, — Sir Brian de Bois Guilbert, a Pre- 
ceptor of the powerful Knights Templars, and Prior Aymer of Jor- 
vaulx Abbey. They had been guided through the intricacies of the 
forest by one, apparently a pilgrim, who, with them, visited Rother- 
wood. 

Besides these, many other persons, both gentle and simple, were 
assembled in the hall. Among them was the Saxon ward of Cedric, 
the Lady Rowena, — the heroine, or one of the heroines of the story. 
She was, wrote Scott, "formed in the best proportions of her sex," 
and " tall in stature, yet not so much so as to attract observation on 
account of superior height. Her complexion was exquisitely fair ; 
but the noble cast of her head and features prevented the insipidity 
which sometimes attaches to fair beauties. Her clear, blue eye, 



''IVANHOEV 349 

which sate enshrined beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown, suffi- 
ciently marked to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable 

to kindle as well as melt, to command as well as to beseech Her 

profuse hair, of a color betwixt brown and flaxen, was arranged in 
a fanciful and graceful manner in numerous ringlets, to form which, 
art had probably aided nature. These locks were braided with 
gems, and, being worn at full length, intimated the noble and free- 
born condition of the maiden." Her dress was both rich and 
picturesque. Adding to the number of the company, and seeking 
rest for the night, came a troubled traveller, Isaac the Jew, of York, 
— wealthy, but despised and hated, illustrating by his condition 
that of even the most favored of his race in Britain at that time. 
The evening spent by this mixed company, characteristic of the 
times and of the classes represented, does not cause us now to envy 
their social life. 

In relation to the appearance of the seat of Cedric, Rotherwood, 
archaeological research will not elicit as definite illustration as it 
will of many other places described in Scott's works. A prominent 
authority, Mr. T. H. Turner, reasonably remarks, " An inquiry into 
the state of domestic architecture in England during the twelfth 
century is attended with much difficulty." Few examples of any 
English architectural works built before William I.'s reign remain. 
The Anglo-Saxons, until that period even, usually built of wood, 
" although," it is said, " stone had been occasionally used several 
centuries earlier." Their " workmanship was undoubtedly rude ; 
and their buildings are described by early historians as having been 
very different in character and very inferior in size to those erected 
by the Normans. Most of the remains of their work are scattered 
portions of churches. Indeed, it has been said that the Normans, 
either from taste or the necessities of their position as conquerors, 
built strong and large edifices, and lived simply in theni ; while even 
the higher classes of the Saxons built indifferently, but kept lav- 
ishly supplied tables. 

During the evening, the Lady Rowena showed her interest in one 
who was supposed to be far distant, by summoning the pilgrim to her 
room and inquiring of him any thing that he might have learned 
about Ivanhoe, a disinherited son of Cedric, then a follower and 
favorite of King Richard, and an associate with the Normans, whom 
Cedric cordially hated. On the next morning, after this interview 
md some of its results, the pilgrim left Rotherwood. He was accom- 



350 ''IVANHOEy 

panied by the Jew, with whom, after a fashion, he had become 
acquainted. The Templar and his party also left ; ana then Cedric, 
with the Lady Rowena and attendants, — all in various ways bound 
to a great Tournament that was soon to be held at Ashby-de-la- 
Zouche, in Leicestershire, many miles south of the supposed site of 
Rotherwood. Ashby is at present a small town, noted for a great 
and now ruinous castle, built subsequent to the time of this story. 
It is said to have been one of the numerous edifices briefly occu- 
pied by Mary, Queen of Scots. 

The Tournament, described and shown to us in the Great Magi- 
cian's most brilliant manner, occurred ; and by its numerous inci- 
dents developed, with great stir and picturesqueness, the action of 
the romance. The splendor of knightly prowess, abundantly exhib- 
ited, was most conspicuous in one affair of curious origin, that 
proved the quahty of a certain actor in the pageant, — a stranger, 
who bore the title of the Disinherited Knight. The Templar, 
who, high as was his rank, was quite as capable of robbery and 
oppression as any who came with the Conqueror, had planned that 
Isaac of York should be waylaid and carried to the castle of a noble 
friend with a character like his own, and that there money should 
be extorted from the Jew. Isaac had been enabled to avoid this 
danger by the unexpected care of the stout Disinherited, to whom 
he had gratefully presented means for procuring a complete outfit 
of horse and armor, and thus for appearing in the lists, and there 
making good a challenge of Sir Brian, and retributively settling a 
just quarrel had by the knight with that acquisitive gentleman. 
The combat in which the two fought was inaugurated in grand 
state by the brother of Richard, Prince John, who, with his suite, 
and a great and varied crowd of people, beheld it. Among these 
spectators were Cedric and the Lady Rowena, Athelstane, a Saxon 
of high lineage. Thane of the ancient castle of Coningsburgh, and 
Isaac of York, who, boldly enough for one of his race, was present 
with his daughter Rebecca, — that celebrity in literature. Her 
charms soon attracted the attention of the Prince. " Her figure," 
wrote Scott, " might indeed have compared with the proudest beau- 
ties of England. . . . Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and 
was shown to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she 
wore according to the fashion of the females of her nation. Her 
turban of yellow silk suited well with the darkness of her com- 
plexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the superb arch of her eye- 



'' I VAN hoe:' 351 

brows, her well-formed aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl, 
and the profusion of her sable tresses, which, each arranged in its 
own little spiral of twisted curls, fell down upon as much of a lovely 
neck and bosom as a simarre of the richest Persian silk, exhibiting 
flowers in their natural colors, embossed upon a purple ground, 
permitted to be visible, — all these constituted a combination of 
lovehness which yielded not to the most beautiful of the maidens 
who surrounded her." Other portions of her person were as charm- 
ing, and the remainder of her dress not less rich. Even such as 
she was, she had the insulting attention accorded her race, until the 
Prince ordered place for her and her father beside the party of 
Cedric. Just then, the great combat began. The Disinherited 
Knight, already in the lists, bravely met Sir Brian ; and not only 
fought and overcame him and other antagonists after him, but 
gained such position in the lists as also to gain the victor's prize, 
awarded by the Prince. The Knight, having thus acquired the right 
to select the Queen of love and beauty, chose the Lady Rowena to 
preside over the Tournament on the next day. Before that time, 
other incidents, rather violent than quiet, introduced certain robbers 
among the characters of the story. 

On the second day ensued a general Tournament. Again the 
stranger Knight fought with Sir Brian, and very desperately, until, 
almost overcome by him and a companion — Sir Reginald Front 
de Boeuf, a follower of Prince John and a first-class rascal — the 
Disinherited was rescued through the strong interposition of a 
mysterious " Black Knight," so called from his complete suit of 
sable armor. He had been conspicuous through the day ; but, with- 
out attempting feats of aggressive prowess, he had simply repelled 
attacks when these were made upon him. He had thus obtained 
from the crowd the additional name of " Le Noir Faineant," or 
" The Black Sluggard." The hitherto unknown " Disinherited 
Knight" again triumphed, and was receiving the crown of vic- 
tory from the Queen of love and beauty, when, overcome by what 
had passed, he swooned, and was discovered to be Ivanhoe, — 
Cedric's son. The father and the Lady Rowena were not the only 
persons profoundly affected by this discovery. Prince John, who 
had, during his brother Richard's absence, been indulging in 
schemes, more of personal ambition than of loyal and fraternal 
affection, beheld in Ivanhoe the favorite follower of his injured 
brother ; and both he and those implicated with him, hardened as 



353 '' I VAN hoe:' 

they were, could but be conscience-struck and startled by the sug- 
gestions that the Knight's presence caused, especially when, imme- 
diately after, a stranger arrived in haste, and gave the Prince a 
little note, briefly inscribed — "Take heed to yourself, for the 
Devil is unchained." The Prince, reading the message, " turned 
pale as death." "It means," he faltered, " that my brother Rich- 
ard has obtained his freedom." But although the schemes of John 
were extremely disturbed by this news, the sports of " the yeomen 
and commons," that were to succeed the lordly Tournament, were, 
from policy at least, held as appointed ; and after these, said the 
Prince, " Our banquet also shall go forward to-night as we proposed. 
Were this my last hour of power, it should be an hour sacred to 
revenge and to pleasure." Accordingly ensued trials of skill in 
archery. The first prize was won by a bold yeoman called Locks- 
ley, who, after marvellous shooting, disappeared as soon as the 
trial ended. The banquet of the Prince was given with great 
luxury and splendor, at the Castle of Ashby, and was attended 
not only by his own adherents, but by Cedric, Athelstane, and 
other Saxons. The party of Cedric then started upon their way 
to Rotherwood, — a way that led through the great forest of Sher- 
wood. While about entering its recesses, then dangerous from 
the number and strength of outlaws occupying them, the party was 
surprised by coming upon the Jew, his daughter, and " a sick 
friend," abandoned by guides whom Isaac had hired for escort to 
Doncaster. The Christians, yielding at last to the entreaties of the 
Jew and Jewess, permitted the forsaken three to accompany their 
party and receive its protection. They had not gone far when they 
were attacked by persons apparently outlaws, and all taken prisoners, 
except two servants of Cedric, named Gurth and Wamba, — humble 
persons, but rather important in the story. The quality of the cap- 
tors was proven by their movements, for they hurried their prison- 
ers to the strong, gloomy castle of Sir Reginald Front de Boeuf, 
as proud and merciless a Norman Baron as any who demonstrated 
his gentihty and cursed the country at that period. He had de- 
signed this practical mode of adding to his power, gratifying the 
pure affections of two of his noble companions, and replenishing 
his treasury. The castle of Front de Boeuf, Torquilstone, very 
possibly cannot be accurately identified now. One can, however, 
imagine it quite correctly from the not infrequent remains of forti- 
fied edifices built by the Normans when they were establishing 




k£.llA:r ZERITAI^ from M0MAX FiJO^H to IIJIEK. 



" I VAN hoe: 



353 



themselves in the country. The mighty, massive, and magnificent 
keeps at Richmond in Yorkshire, at Rochester in Kent, and the 
White Tower, the Tower at London, are conspicuous and impos- 
ing examples of the main portions of such structures, around which 
were grouped lesser, yet very strong and substantial works, that 
can now be less readily realized. At Kenilworth, to which the 
route of this tour soon leads, will be found a very remarkable keep 
of immense size and impressive effect, called Caesar's Tower, that 
belongs to the period of this story, and that has around it exten- 
sive outworks. These are, however, of a later age, but not the 
less interesting. 

At this Torquilstone, stronghold of almost the worst description 
of feudal might and mediaeval character, were confined the Saxon 
and the Jewish captives, — all in mosi anxious suspense. Cedric 
and Athelstane were in the guard-room. The Lady Rowena was 
in the state apartment, subjected to the suit of Sir Maurice de 
Bracy, a follower of Prince John, a companion of Sir Reginald, 
and a titled thief. So desirous was his enamoured heart that she 
should become his bride, that he threatened to kill both Cedric 
and Ivanhoe unless she consented. If it fared ill with the Chris- 
tians, it was far worse with the Jews. Isaac, immured in a deep 
dungeon, was visited by Sir Reginald, and two slaves, who, at the 
command of their master, bound the captive to a sort of gridiron, 
on which it was proposed, that, over a slow fire, he should accede 
to such demands as the Norman could make upon him. Rebecca, 
confined in a lofty turret, was visited by the Templar, who, exer- 
cising the opportunities of power over supposed helplessness, 
offered her insult ; when she reached the battlements, and threatened 
to throw herself from them if he persisted. Desperate, indeed, 
became the position of the captives ; doubtful the extent of evil 
that their captors might do them. 

Meanwhile the Black Knight, who left the Tournament abruptly, 
after the Disinherited had gained the victory, had set out upon a 
long journey that led him towards the West Riding of Yorkshire 
Night overtaking him, and his horse not being in order, he was 
obliged to find shelter in the cell of a recluse. Friar Tuck, whose 
hermitage was called the Chapel of Copmanhurst. There, how- 
ever, with the Friar, he spent rather a jolly evening, interrupted by 
the appearance of Locksley, the bold archer of Ashby, who, at the 
head of a gallant band, appeared in real character, — none other 

23 



354 " IVANHOE." 

than the famous Robin Hood. With the Knight and the Friar, ihe 
romantic outlaw, and many other characters of whom this story and 
picturesque legends tell us, we are again led through Sherwood 
Forest. It can yet, or could very recently, present woodland 
scenery that is seemingly unchanged from the time of Ivanhoe ; 
in which it is possible for us, even now, to relapse into that remote, 
strange period, and to summon around us, amid venerable sylvan 
recesses, the forms that once animated them so romantically, and 
that now invest with so much fascinating attraction many a ballad 
and old tale, and many recollections of our early readings. 

Travellers, who come from the North, will, while on the way to 
Sherwood, find enough to render at least a portion of a day agree- 
able at Doncaster, a pretty town, known in Roman and mediaeval 
times, and a scene of stirring historic incidents. It is ennobled by 
the beautiful church of St. George, lately re-erected from very 
excellent designs by Sir. G. G. Scott. Four miles west of it will 
be found Coningsburgh Castle, perhaps the most entire archi- 
tectural object that remains from the period of the story, and that 
is described in it. Little of the castle besides the keep exists. 
That stands towards the corner of an irregular court, at the top of 
a small, steep, grass-grown or wooded hill. There it still rises, 
strong and lofty, a huge, round tower, with four square turrets or 
buttresses equidistant around it. Its hewn stone walls, grown now 
a bleached gray, varied by bits of drabbish tinting, appear yet able 
to endure through centuries. The small door, ten or twelve feet 
above the ground, is reached by an open-sided flight of stone steps, 
built up solidly. The walls, immensely thick, enclose three stories 
of moderate-sized rooms, and beneath these a dungeon. There has 
been a castle here almost from Roman times. The existing struc- 
ture is certainly as old as the earliest Norman work, and some think 
it even early Saxon. Scott, who examined it with rather unusual 
attention, described it as "one of the very few remaining examples 
of Saxon fortification," and allied in style to that of the ancient 
Scandinavians. It certainly should be visited by those interested 
in seeing remains of domestic architecture of past ages, for it is 
one of the rarest of these rehcs. Besides, wrote Scott, " there are 
few more beautiful or striking scenes in England, than one pre- 
sented by the vicinity of this ancient . . . fortress. The soft and 
gentle river Don sweeps through an amphitheatre, in which culti- 
vation is richly blended with woodland ; and on a mount, ascending 



" IVAN no Er 355 

from the river, well defended by walls and ditches, rises this 
ancient edifice, which, as its Saxon name implies, was, previous to 
the Conquest, a royal residence of the Kings of England. The 
outer walls have probably been added by the Normans, but the 
inner keep bears token of very great antiquity." " The distant ap- 
pearance of this huge building ... is as interesting to the lovers 
of the picturesque, as the interior of the castle is to the eager 
antiquary, whose imagination it carries back to the days of the 
Heptarchy." Mr. King (in " Munimenta Antiqua ") considers " this 
tower to have been built by Hengist, or some Saxon king, before 
the conversion of that people to Christianity, if not much sooner ; 
and to be one of the most ancient, as well as most perfect, remains 
of antiquity in" England. Some of the views around it may, 
indeed, now not be unlike those in the days of Ivanhoe. The 
country between it and Doncaster is rural and agreeable. At it 
transpired some remarkable incidents at the closing of the story. 

Travellers who continue this tour through England, will do 
well to go southward to Retford Junction, passing meanwhile, on 
the right, near Bawtry, and in sight from the line, the place where 
stood the house, that " maximae gentis incunabula," in which the 
Plymouth Pilgrim Fathers of New England first assembled. From 
Retford travellers can go to Worksop, situated in what has been 
popularly called the Dukery, from the number of noble seats around 
it, and thence explore old Sherwood Forest, and reach, by carriage, 
Mansfield, a dozen miles south. But the better way is to go from 
Retford to Lincoln, and see one of the noblest cathedrals of Britain, 
upon one of the most lordly sites in Europe. 

" Open your gates, ye Monuments of love 
Divine ! thou, Lincoln, on thy sovereign hill ! " 

wrote Wordsworth. Triple-towered, venerably gray, sublime in 
form, musical with its mighty bells, and eloquent with associations, 
this vast and rich and holy structure, from its high seat, looks out 
over many a mile of plain, that extends in every direction around 
it, and down upon the town it seems guarding and blessing. And, 
although within it may seem to have grown bare and chill, and to 
be but a faded semblance of its former self, whence the vital spirit 
that once animated it has departed, even yet it is glorious, itnd 
resounds with praise to Him who is the perfection of all beauty ; 
and yet again, we may hope, will it be rerobed in pristine splendor 



T^^G ''J VAN hoe:' 

From Lincoln travellers should go to Boston, and see the great 
church of St. Botolph, with one of the noblest towers in Britain 
nearly three hundred feet high, overlooking a wide extent of Lin- 
colnshire plains. There, also, will be found that pleasant Cotton 
Chapel, in which the pious care of generous New England men is 
told by the appropriate and elegant Latin of Edward Everett, 
inscribed on brass. Around this old town are many other memo- 
ries and souvenirs of the fathers of the younger England and 
Boston now growing so wonderfully from small seeds raised in 
the rather stony ground of this region. 

Travellers can go across the country, and through populous and 
busy Nottingham, to Mansfield, a quiet country town, from which a 
visit may easily be made to Newstead Abbey, with its fine park and 
curious, semi-monastic, romantic house, so inseparably associated 
with Lord Byron, and the care of Colonel Wildman and other pro- 
prietors. Thence one may go to Hardwicke Hall, that nobly built 
and kept Jacobean residence of the Dukes of Devonshire ; and, 
furthermore, to the scenery most suggestive of this novel, and 
directly leading one back to its times, — the remains of the ancient 
forest of Sherwood. Originally, the forest extended over many 
a mile of country from ." Nottingham to Whitby in Yorkshire, 
or rather it and the forest of Whitby lay open to each other, in 
perfect contiguity." In it, besides the exploits of Robin Hood 
and his merry men, were the great hunts of the Norman kings, for 
which Henry IL built a seat at Clipstone, "an especially favorite 
place of John, whose mark upon the forest trees growing in that 
neighborhood has been repeatedly found of late years, in cutting 
them up for timber." At many places, as William Howitt tells us 
in his " Rural Life of England," are remains of the trees and the 
primeval sylvan scenery, but especially in a tract " about five miles 
in length, and one or two in width," called Bilhaghe and Birkland, 
extending "along the side of Thoresby Park, the seat of Earl 
Manvers, to Chpstone Park," about half a dozen miles or more 
from Mansfield. There, also, may be found what are called the 
ruins of King John's palace, — a portion of the hall of a once exten- 
sive structure that " strongly raises the idea of times long past," 
says a local writer, " when steel-clad knights, and barons bold, and 
haughty priests, and smiling courtiers, and straight-laced dames, 
and blushing damsels, and the whole et cetera of feudal pomp and 
high-minded chivalry paced its now deserted halls." About the 



''iVANHOEy 357 

year 1790, the tract referred to, containing about fifteen hundred 
acres, bore " ten thousand one hundred and seventeen trees, valued 
at a httle more than seventeen thousand pounds." Among the 
most celebrated of these trees, is, or was, one " called the Parlia- 
ment Oak, from a tradition of a parliament having been held there 
by Edward the First ; and another near the north end of the same 
park, called the Broad Oak, measuring twenty-seven feet and a half 
in circumference." Elsewhere was an elm, called Langton Arbor, 
for a long time so remarkable as to have a special keeper. " Bil- 
haghe," wrote Howitt, " is a forest of oaks, and is clothed with the 
most impressive aspect of age that can perhaps be presented to 
the eye in these kingdoms. Stonehenge does not give you a feeling 
of greater eld, because it is not composed of a material so easily 
acted on by the elements. But the hand of time has been on these 
woods, and has stamped upon them a most imposing character. . . . 
A thousand years, ten thousand tempests, hghtnings, winds, and 
wintry violence, have all flung their utmost force on these trees ; 
and there they stand, trunk after trunk, scathed, hollow, gray, 
gnarled, stretching out their bare, sturdy arms, or their mingled 
foliage and ruin, — a life in death. All is gray and old. The 
ground is gray beneath, the trees are gray with clinging lichens, 
the very heather and fern that spring beneath them have a charac- 
ter of the past. . . . These were the trees under which King John 
pursued the red deer six hundred years ago. These were the oaks 
beneath which Robin Hood led up his bold band of outlaws. 
These are the oaks which have stood while king after king reigned ; 
. . . while the monarchy of England fell to the ground before Crom- 
well ; . . . while, under a new dynasty, the fortunes of England have 
been urging, through good and evil, their course" to greatness. 
In a continuous hne with Bilhaghe is Birkland, — "the land of 
Birches ! It is a forest perfectly unique. It is equally ancient with 
Bilhaghe ; but it has a less dilapidated air." There are old, mighty, 
wasted oaks scattered among these ; " but the birches, of which 
the main portion of this forest consists, cannot boast the longevity 
of oaks." Those existing are the successors of generations of 
their kind. " Birkland ... is a region of grace and poetry ! " with 
which nothing of its sort in England can compare. Its trees are 
of great size, "and the peculiar mixture of their lady-like grace 
with the stern and ample forms of these feudal oaks, produces 
an effect most fairylandish and unrivalled. . . . There never was 



358 



''I VAN hoe: 



scenery to realize more perfectly our idea " of that forest of Arden 
with its company of Shakespeare's immortal creations. Dense 
thickets, open prospects, secluded glades, narrow, winding foot- 
paths, or long avenues vary its features. "There is no end to 
the variety of their aspect and grouping. From the sylvan loveli- 
ness around you, you might fancy yourself in the outer wilderness 
of some Armida's garden. ... It is just the region to grow poetical 
in. ... It is ... a palpable introduction into the old world of poetry 
and romance." 

From the inspirations of this charming scenery one goes back to 
the town associated with that old and pleasant ballad, entitled 
" King Henry II. and the Miller of Mansfield " : — 

" Henry, our royall king, would ride a hunting 
To the greene forest so pleasant and faire ; 
To see the harts skipping, and dainty does tripping: 

Unto merry Sherwood his nobles repaive : 
When . . . our . . . king came home . . . 

Recounting the sports and pastimes they had taken, 
. . . along on the way ; 
Of them all, great and small, he did protest, 

The miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best." 

Then, one may go across the country towards Ambergate, and near 
there take the rail into Derbyshire, and some of the scenes of the 
next novel sketched, — " Peveril of the Peak." 

The characters of " Ivanhoe " last mentioned in this chapter were 
in Sherwood Forest, — some perilously imprisoned, others, as the 
Black Knight and Robin Hood, with his famous and reputed "mer- 
ry " men, traversing it, bound on bold adventure. For some of the 
picturesque and voluminous legends of the latter characters, refer- 
ence had best be made to Mr. Ritson's Collections, now so dear to 
the hearts and pockets of bibliomaniacs. Other works also tell a 
wonderful amount both in prose and in verse about them. The 
Knight and his companions went through the forest, and found 
quite all the bold adventures they sought.' This chapter need not 
tell these, or the well-known trials and re-^cue of Cedric, the Lady 
Rowena, the Disinherited Knight, and the beautiful Rebecca at the 
dismal castle of Front de Bceuf Sir Walter Scott has represented 
them with a marvellous interest, and with a fascination that we 
cannot but feel in secluded Sherwood or elsewhere. None of the 
stirring incidents that occurred in forest or castle, or monastic 
retreats, so well known, need to be mentioned here, except one 



''irANEOK: 



359 



ihat renders the ancient keep at Conigsburgh prominent. There, 
its Saxon master, Athelstane, hope of Cedric, and ancient dynastic 
succession, was prepared for burial. His obsequies, however, were 
interrupted by startling events, not the least of which were his own 
resurrection, and a disclosure by the Black Knight to Cedric. The 
latter had continued resolutely opposed to the Normans, and unre- 
conciled to his own son and heir, Ivanhoe, who was in their ser- 
vice. The king was generally supposed to be a prisoner abroad ; 
and it was to the wonder of Cedric, and that of the assembled 
company, that the Knight, at an opportune moment, said to 
him, — 

" As yet you have known me but as the Black Knight — . . . know 
me now as Richard Plantagenet." 

" Richard of Anjou ! exclaimed Cedric, stepping backward with 
the utmost astonishment," yet little shaken in his strong Saxon 
feelings. 

" No, noble Cedric, — Richard of England ! whose deepest intei- 
est, whose deepest wish, is to see her sons united with each 
other ! " And then, through his truly royal influence, Cedric was 
reconciled to Ivanhoe. 

But the fortunes of the story were yet far from being decided. 
In a preceptory of the Knights Templars, — Templestowe, — was 
enacted a tragedy, important in these, and very characteristic of 
the prejudices, the superstitions, the trials, and the vicissitudes of 
that wild, vigorous, dramatic age. Identification of the site of this 
institution will be rather difficult, although the story informs us 
that it " was but a day's journey from the castle of Torquilstone," 
and " seated amidst fair meadows and pastures, which the devotion 
of the former Preceptor had bestowed upon their order." It had 
great defensive strength, — a quahty "never neglected by these 
knights, and which the disordered state of England rendered pecu- 
liarly necessary." This Order, as is generally known, like most 
things earthly, began on a small scale. It was founded about 1118 
at Jerusalem, and there styled itself Militia Templi, — the Soldiery 
of the Temple, — and consisted of only nine knights, bound by 
oath to live according to the canons of St. Augustine, in chastity 
and poverty, and to fight always against the heathen, for the 
Holy Land, and for pilgrims to it. Wealth and power soon were 
accorded the order. Its rise was rapid, and from exemplifying 
simply the suggestions of its seal, — two knights mounted upon a 



360 '' iVAXifOJ:r 

single horse, and surrounded by the legend, '' MiHtuni Christ! -|- 
sigillum," it grew until it occupied many strong seats and rich 
estates scattered through Europe ; and its members, from sworn 
and incessant combatants against the Moslem in defence of Holy 
Places, became a power of political importance, and bold aspira- 
tions their opponents said. In England they had seventeen pre- 
ceptories, besides many other estates. These were divided among 
ten bailiwicks, several of which were in the more central portions 
of the country. All were subject to the great-prior at the Temple 
in London. Although the knights, within thirty or forty years 
from their foundation, disregarded their vows of chastity and 
poverty, they were always brave soldiers in the cause to which 
they were devoted. But their immense possessions were coveted, 
and their suppression, in 1309-12, particularly in France, became 
one of the darkest episodes of history. While most of their 
structures in England have perished, a few of their churches 
— or churches like theirs, as at Cambridge and London — remain, 
distinguished by their pecuhar circular form. That at London, 
originally the chief, remains in finest condition. Its re-edifica- 
tion, costly and careful, does great honor to the legal holders 
of the modern Temples who caused the work to be done. It 
is a famihar monument of the past, secluded near the Bar between 
Fleet Street and the Strand, and beautiful with its lofty round 
nave or body, its Purbeck marble shafts and knightly efiigies, 
and its fair Early-EngHsh choir. The music of the service at it is 
dehghtful. We can yet, without attempting to fix the position of 
Templestowe, imagine its large, stern, Norman buildings, and 
within them, Rebecca confined, under sentence to death by fire for 
the crime of witchcraft, exercised upon that stainless innocent. Sir 
Brian de Bois Guilbert, unless she could find some champion to 
fight for her cause in trial by combat, — a right of the age that she 
claimed. Sir Brian, who had sought to win her affections or her 
person by every artifice or entreaty or force, and to engage her love 
either untruly or truly, and who had endeavored to seduce her 
from her faith by off"ers of the most brilliant fortunes, was appointed 
champion of the Temple " in behalf of his Order and himself, as 
injured and impaired by the practices of the appellant." But there 
was the gravest doubt that any champion of the unfortunate Jewish 
maiden would appear. Time passed. The day of trial came. The 
lists were prepared. The dreadful stake and its accompaniments 



''I VAN hoe:' 361 

KQYt waiting. A great assemblage paused to behold the final scene. 
The trumpets sounded, "and there was a dead pause of many 
minutes." 

" No champion appears for the appellant," said the Grand Master 
of the Templars. . Again all paused. When the judges had "been 
two hours in the lists, awaiting in vain the appearance of a cham- 
pion," the supreme moment arrived. Then "a knight, urging his 
horse to speed, appeared " advancing. Her champion had come, — 
the victor in the tournament at Ashby. Sir Walter's stirring narra- 
tion of the combat that ensued, and of Rebecca's deliverance, can 
hardly be adequately given here. The final episode, however, 
inspiritingly expresses the result, when, amid the " clattering of 
horses' feet, advancing in such numbers, and so rapidly, as to shake 
the ground before them, the Black Knight galloped into the lists," 
and, after brief introduction, said to one of his attendants, " Bohun, 
do thine office ! " And he who was addressed did that office by 
laying his hand upon the shoulder of the preceptor, and saying, 
" I arrest thee of high treason." The Grand Master of the Order, 
an astonished witness, exclaimed, — 

" Who dares to arrest a Knight of the Temple of Zion, within 
the girth of his own preceptory, and in the presence of the Grand 
Master ? And by whose authority is this bold outrage offered } " 

" I make the arrest," rephed the attendant bidden to the office — 
" I, Henry Bohun, Earl of Essex, Lord High Constable of England." 

"And he arrests" thee, "said the Black Knight, raising his 
visor, by the order of Richard Plantagenet, here present." 

And then the Templars, threatening resistance, yet daring only 
to yield, breaking many treasonable s'chemes, contrived with the 
false Prince John, while his brother, the rightful sovereign, was 
held captive abroad, — schemes that had brought this plotting 
Preceptor into peril for his crime — loosing judicial power of mailed 
men against a tender maiden, — sullenly and slowly, at the King's 
command, rode forth, to seek, as he ordered, some other rallying 
place of their Order, — if one could be found in England, not then 
dissolved for conspiracy against him. 

"Chaplains," said the Master, "raise the Psalm Quare fre- 
muerunt Gentes? Knights, s-quires, and followers of the Holy 
Temple, prepare to follow the banner of Beau-seant ! " And thus 
departed the Templars ; and thus this " Richard " was " himself 
again. And Cedric the Saxon, reconciled to Ivanhoe, found him. 



362 ''I VAN hoe:' 

in the victor at Ashby and Templestowe, a son who had proved his 
good heart and strong arm and knightly worth. 

Sir Walter himself had best describe the fortunes of Rebecca and 
of the Lady Rowena, the romantic exploits of Robin Hood and 
liis merry men, and Ivanhoe's attainment of a true knight's reward. 
This sketch, already too prolonged, is, it is trusted, rendered a suf- 
ficient guide along the winding ways that lead to the places once 
scenes of their adventures, and need hardly betray more of their 
secrets or those of the Great Magician. 

There are a few notable places mentioned, or more than men- 
tioned, in the story, but not as important in it as those already 
named. The traveller is supposed to have visited Fountains- 
Abbey, — that monastic glory of Yorkshire, to which Friar Tuck 
of Copmanhurst was attached. Perhaps ten miles southward of 
Richmond (where is the grand Norman Keep), the traveller who 
thoroughly explores the topography of Ivanhoe may find Middle- 
ham Castle, once held by a brother of Prior Aymer of this story 
(and afterward by Earl Warwick the king maker). A few miles 
farther is Jorvaulx Abbey, to which Aymer was attached. It is, 
however, less noticeable in this story, than the Prior himself, who 
figured remarkably in Sherwood Forest. Much of Prince John's 
plotting and circumvention was in the castle at York. The struc- 
ture is very much changed since the time of the story, and is not 
suggestive of it. One notable incident is described as having 
occurred in the minster, but necessarily in an edifice replaced by 
the sublime church that now exists, founded as the latter was 
during the succeeding century. We are told also that Ivanhoe, 
when wounded after the first great Tournament, was quartered at 
the Abbey of Saint Botolph. Identification of this establishment 
is left, however, to the enterprise of others, and to their enlarged 
resources in archaeological topography. 

The closing lines of the romance inform us that " Ivanhoe dis- 
tinguished himself in the service of Richard, and was graced with 
farther marks of the royal favor. He might have risen higher but 
for the premature death of the heroic Cceur-de-Lion, ... to whom 
may be applied, with a slight alteration, the lines composed bjf 
Johnson for Charles of Sweden, — 

" His fate was destined for a foreign strand, 
A petty fortress and an ' humble ' hand, 
He left the name at which the world grew pale. 
To point a moral, or adorn a Tale." 



''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 3'J3 

XXXIX. 

"Peveril of the Peak." 

Sixteenth Novel of the Series; Written 1822; Published J antiary, 1823; 
Author'' s age, 52; Time of action^ 1660-80. 

TRAVELLERS departing from Mansfield may go, as advised, 
across the country, and, taking a train near Ambergate, reach 
the central portions of Derbyshire, where are some of the chief 
scenes of this long and diversified novel. Meanwhile, several of 
the remarkable places of England may be passed and visited. First, 
will be found Matlock Bath, an odd little summer resort, surrounded 
by picturesque scenery. Then, accessible from Rowsley, should be 
visited — if scarcely another similar place in the country — the 
magnificent Palace of the Peak, — Chatsworth ; a seat of the Dukes 
of Devonshire. Few country residences ever existed comparable 
with this in the vari-ety of its treasures and decorations. One who 
has been viewing scenes illustrative of the higher rank of social 
life in past ages will find here a combination of all the amenities 
that, in this last century of history, can surround it, — in the open 
air, picturesque scenery exquisitely adorned, sumptuous architec- 
ture, a truly palatial house, surrounded by gardens in many styles, 
with almost unique conservatories, water-works, and botanical won- 
ders ; and within doors, superb apartments furnished in the richest 
manner, not only by upholstery, but by pictures and drawings, 
statuary and books. It is the perfection of a modern home in its 
most brilliant development of wealth, refinement, and education. 
A few miles from it will be found (and tourists should not omit 
finding) a seat that illustrates the condition and development, two 
to three centuries ago, of a corresponding social rank, — Haddon 
Hall, one of the most romantic places of Old England, and the 
supposed original of a house prominent in this story ; consequently 
more about it, in the course of this chapter. A short distance 
from it is Buxton, another pretty watering-place, where will be 
found warm and cold springs, — chalybeate, iron, or other waters, 
more or less palatable and curative, — and good hotels. One will 
also find the snuggest and nicest of quarters near Chatsworth, and 
at the " Peacock " at Rowsley. From either of these two places, 



n'j^ ''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 

or from Buxton, is an easy excursion to Castleton, where is the 
Peak Cavern, the largest cave in Britain ; and, above its imposing 
entrance, the castle not only giving it its name, but aiding to the 
designation of a family who once owned the stronghold, and whose 
name appears in the title of this novel, action of which there opens. 

This novel, written with even more rapidity than usual by its 
author, is thought to rank among his most masterly compositions. 
"An accidental circumstance," he stated in 1831, "decided my 
choice of a subject for the present work. It was now several years 
since my immediate younger brother, Thomas Scott, . . . had resided 
for two or three seasons in the Isle of Man, and, having access to 
the registers of that singular territory, had copied many of them, 
which he subjected to my perusal." These papers were somehow 
lost ; but, continued Sir Walter, " The tenor of them, that is, the 
most remarkable, remained engraved on [my] memory." Thus 
originated a prominent episode, duly mentioned, that led the author 
to represent persons and scenes identified with places to which 
travellers are, in this chapter, supposed to be directed. 

" William, the Conqueror of England," begins the story, " was, 
or supposed himself to be, the father of a certain WilHam Peveril, 
who attended him to the battle of Hastings, and there distinguished 
himself." In the division of the spoils of war this Peveril " obtained 
a liberal grant of property, and lordships in Derbyshire, and became 
the erector of that Gothic fortress, which, hanging over the mouth 
of the Devil's Cavern, so well known to tourists, gives the name of 
Castleton to the adjacent village." From him descended, directly 
or indirectly, a family "long distinguished by the proud title ol 
Peverils of the Peak, which served to mark their high descent and 
lofty pretensions." A curious story is told of a tournament held by 
one of them, at the instigation of Mellet, a martial daughter of the 
house, in which knights desiring her in marriage might attain 
the prize by successful combat. A member of the great French 
house of Lorraine, overcoming sundry eminent opponents, thus 
gained her. The later history of the family, given in the novel, 
may be thought to diifer from that to be found elsewhere ; yet may 
be thought sufficiently accurate for the subject, as is also Scott's 
account of the fortunes of the castle itself, said to have been 
reduced from pristine strength and completeness to more or less 
ruin, when the Peveril of this story sustained loyally in it a siege 
by Cromwell, " of the irregular kind which caused the destruction 



''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 365 

Df SO many baronial residences during the course of" the great 
Civil War. 

Mounted upon a site originally very strong and almost inaccessi- 
ble, and built as if "for the sole purpose of puzzling posterity," 
this castle still rises prominently, though ruined, on a curious emi- 
nence above the upper part of a broad, steep, grassy hillside, over 
the slippery slope of which the writer reached it. On the top of 
this eminence appeared the south and east fronts of the structure, 
bounded by a narrow ravine with almost perpendicular banks, 
gashed into the hillside to a great depth, — in one place nearly 
two hundred feet. This is called Cave Dale. Towards this, west- 
ward, extends a tremendous gorge, into which opens the cavern, 
and which presents, beneath the castle, an abrupt cliff-side two 
hundred and sixty feet high. About at the point between the two, 
over a deep, connecting cut, was once the drawbridge to the keep, 
that stands at the end of this point. Northward, lie the slopes up 
which the explorer is supposed to have climbed. Beyond the 
ravines will be seen the great hills of Derbyshire, while all north 
about is the wide and far-extending Vale of Hope, over which the 
castle seems to have kept watch and ward. The bottom of the 
Vale is undulatory, beautifully cultivated, crossed by many lines of 
parallel or intersecting hedge-rows, and studded with picturesque 
trees. On this, as on the other, side of the castle, huge, rolling 
hills bound the horizon. The castle was built of rude stones 
imbedded in mortar so strong as to render the whole a sort of 
conglomerate. Both the outside and inside facings were squared 
blocks of smoothed yellowish gritstone, now, in spots, either much 
worn by weather, or pulled off and used upon the village houses, 
leaving ragged masses of rubble. " The castle yard, an enclosed 
area, extended almost over the whole summit of the eminence. 
The wall is nearly in ruins to the level of the area ; though in some 
few places of the outside, it measures twenty feet in height. On 
the north side were two small towers, now destroyed. . . . Near the 
north-west angle is the keep," and as noted, opposite it, the en- 
trance arch-way, remains of which yet exist. The general form 
of the area of the works was triangular. The keep is square, — ■ 
about thirty-eight feet on each side. The walls were six or eight 
feet thick, and built as already described. Two sides are much 
shattered ; but one part is yet over fifty feet high. The interior, 
now entirely ruinous, once contained a dungeon basement, a story 



366 ''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 

of fourteen feet height, another of sixteen, and a sort of attic undei 
gables north and south. A broken flight of steps, after a fashion, 
leads to the top. Other buildings once completed the accommo- 
dations of the castle. 

Here, about the opening of this story, the Lady of Sir Geoffrey 
Peveril, the representative of the ancient house, and a tried and 
once afflicted Royalist, gave a grand banquet in celebration " of 
the blessed Restoration of his most sacred Majesty " Charles the 
Second. This banquet, given while the Knight was absent at 
court, was a curious demonstration of the existing condition of 
the kingdom. The neighboring leading persons in both the great 
parties — the Cavaliers and the " Roundheads " — were invited and 
came, — and in separate bodies, " by different routes, and forming 
each a sort of procession, as if the adherents of each party were 
desirous of exhibiting its strength and numbers." For various 
reasons, the Puritans were the fewer. Their dress was, in general, 
studiously simple and unostentatious, or only remarkable by the 
contradictory affectation of extreme simphcity or carelessness. Its 
colors were " sad," its forms stiff. Their short hair and stern and 
gloomy gravity of countenance, their language, and, above all, the 
psalm-like song they uplifted while ascending to the castle, showed 
some of their pecuHarities. Contrasted with these grave and not 
over-eager accipients of the invitation to the festivity were the jovial 
Cavaliers, "who, decked in whatever pomp their repeated mis- 
fortunes and impoverishment had left them, were moving towards 
the same point, though by a different road, and were filling the 
principal avenue to the Castle with tiptoe mirth and revelry." To 
the former party. Lady Peveril presented herself, accompanied by 
two children. She conducted the Puritans to the banqueting-room 
they were to occupy. The steward of the castle, meanwhile, re- 
ceived the Cavaliers, who occupied a separate apartment, where 
hospitality soon began to exercise its benign influence, " so that 
when the Lady Peveril walked into the Hall, accompanied as before 
with the children and her female attendants, she was welcomed 
with the acclamations due" her. The extensive banquet, thus held 
at Martindale Castle, for by that name is the seat of the Peverils 
known in this story, might seem to require a larger edifice than 
" the Place in the Peke," as old accounts name it. But the author 
had strong imagination, and by that potent power has sufficiently 
enlarged it, by combining with it another residence, just men 



''PEVERIL OF THE PEAKr 367 

tioned, far more ample and more characteristic of the period 
illustrated, — Haddon Hall, an ancient and romantic seat of the 
Manners family. Before referring to that charming place, it may 
be well to observe that the banquet continued late, — that is, with 
the Cavahers. "It was near midnight ere the greater part" of 
them, " meaning such as were able to effect their departure without 
assistance, withdrew to the village of Martindale-Moultrassie," 
shouting "their roaring chorus of, — 'The King shall enjoy his 
own again ! ' " 

This village may not be found on maps now, although the novel 
states that it was considerably eastward of the castle, and took its 
double name from that and from Moultrassie Hall, a " substantial, 
though small-sized brick building . . . but two miles distant" from 
it, and occupied by Major Bridgenorth. He was "a gentleman of 
middling quality," who had inherited a moderate commercial for- 
tune, and who had joined the Puritans. He had been long intimate 
with his superior in rank. Sir Geoffrey Peveril, an ardent Royalist. 
In the Parliamentary service he was a strong exponent of the 
characteristics of his party, and obtained the title he bore. 

Friendship, however, continued between the families of the two 
former companions. When the major became the "father of a 
living child, it was the voice of Lady Peveril communicated to him 
the melancholy intelligence that he was no longer a husband." 
The child then born, a girl, was cared for by Lady Peveril, and 
grew up with her own son, Julian. These were the two children 
who appeared at the banquet, and who became the hero and the 
heroine of the novel. Before tracing their future history, brief 
view may be had of scenes such as those in which an important 
pordon of it was enacted, — scenes at Haddon Hall, already men- 
tioned, and, as already also mentioned, a house that should certainly 
be visited by travellers for its romantic picturesqueness and illus- 
trative value in domestic history. The proprietor of this historical 
monument, the Duke of Rutland, not only maintains it in excellent 
order, but also liberally allows it to be examined by the public. 

The " vill of Haddon," says Mr. Rayner, may have belonged to the 
" Peverells during two generations only," not far from the year 1 100, 
" Nether Haddon, which, at the time of the Doomsday survey, was 
a barton or farm appertaining to the lordship of Bakewell, had 
been granted by one of the Peverells ... to one of his retainers, 
named Avcncll, on tlie tenure of Knights' service," at about a period 



368 ''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.'' 

when the former family had forfeited most of its estates, by the 
flight and outlawry of William Peverell, a "constant adherent" 
of King Stephen, on account of complicity in poisoning the Earl of 
Chester. From Peverils to Avenells, Haddon passed to Vernons, 
it is said, in the reign of Richard I., and remained in their uninter- 
rupted possession until the death, in 1565, of Sir George Vernon, 
who, for his magnificent hospitality, was called, popularly, " Petty 
King of the Peake." His daughter, Dorothy, at that time *' aged 
twenty-one," was " wife of Sir John Manners, Knt, second son " 
of the " Earl of Rutland, the first of his name and family who held 
that earldom." Haddon was a portion of the dowry of Lady Doro- 
thy, and by her was transferred " to new lords of a different race, 
in whose possession it still remains." Thus, it will be seen, that 
if Scott desired to lay scenes of his story in a place as appropriate 
as Haddon, he could not properly do so, except under veil of 
altered names. The edifice itself, of great size, and various ages 
from even Saxon times to those of Charles II., is situated amid 
delightful, rural scenery, beautifully wooded, through which peace- 
fully flows the river Wye. " Its embattled parapets and crested 
turrets, proudly towering above the branching woods in which it is 
embosomed, cause it, when viewed from the vale below, to assume 
the appearance of a formidable fortress." It is, however, now 
only a castellated mansion unfitted for defence, " according to the 
tactics of any period," having received its general character at a 
time when neither the higher classes, nor, indeed, any classes, 
required a " house of strength." Its style compared with the classic 
regularity and modern refined elegance of neighboring Chatsworth 
will, as at first noted, show the progress of society in Britain. 
Haddon, one of the most complete extant examples of 'he home 
of a great gentleman of the fifteenth and the sixteenth centuries, 
"when viewed as a whole" (says Mr. King), "is almost devoid of 
all real elegance, or comfortable convenience, and fitted only to 
entertain a herd of licentious retainers." Despite the contrast and 
this opinion, it is as charming a place as one could imagine, of its 
sort, created out of a story-book rather than for e very-day life. 
Its general ground-plan is that of two irregular hollow squares 
placed side by side, and extending lengthways up a long, gently 
sloping hill. The entrance is through a great tower at the lower 
corner of one of the longer sides, that, extending up the slope 
to the left, is occupied by extensive offices. Entering there the 



''PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 369 

lower court, one finds, on the right, offices; in front, the chapel; 
and, turning to the left, on the upper side, the great hall and the 
family dining-room. Both chapel and hall were built before 1452. 
Directly beyond the hall is the other court, of about the same size, 
ha\ing at its upper corner a back entrance and a state chamber. 
Along the farther side is the " long gallery, or ball-room," or " ban- 
que ting-room," as it is variously called. This apartment and the 
hall readily suggest that Scott was thinking of them when he 
described the divided banquet at Martindale Castle. The hall 
at Haddon is of considerable size, and rather rude in finish. The 
gallery is one hundred and nine feet long, eighteen feet wide, and 
fifteen feet high. Three immense bay-windows increase these 
dimensions, and add much to the effect of this, the largest apart- 
ment in the structure. The finishing is of carved oak. Although 
built before Queen Elizabeth's reign, it was probably fitted up 
internally during that period, after it came into possession of the 
Manners' family. Adjoining it, is the state bed-chamber, an ample 
and curious room containing much of the ancient furniture yet re- 
maining at Haddon. From an ante-room is a door opening to an 
exterior stone stair that leads to a formal but romantic terrace, 
called Dorothy Vernon's Walk. Through this door, that young 
lady is said to have eloped with Sir John Manners, on a ball-night, 
and thus to have carried Haddon to his family. Before the gallery 
side of the mansion is a very pretty and old-world-looking garden, 
towards which the Hall itself presents a very picturesque front. It 
may be added that, although kept in excellent condition, Haddon is 
almost unfurnished, and has not been used as a residence for nearly 
two centuries. One of its latest occupants, the first Duke of Rut- 
land, raised from the rank of Earl by Queen Anne, when he resided 
here in her time, kept nearly one hundred and fifty servants, — so 
great was his hospitality. 

In such apartments as these at Haddon, we may accordingly 
imagine the banquet at Martindale, and continue the story of the 
Peverils, when it was affected by an incident that occurred soon 
after that event, and is easily imaginable in the panelled gallery. 
Young Julian and Alice (for that was the name of Major Bridge- 
north's daughter) were playing in an apartment like it, when, to 
their intense surprise, one of the panels opened and gave a lady 
access to their presence. Stately, beautiful, and mysterious, she 
appeared to them "an enchanted queen." Just at this moment 

24 



370 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK: 



also appeared in the room Major Bridgenorth, himself, and Lady 
Peverih The latter immediately recognized and affectionately 
greeted the stranger as her "kind," her "noble benefactress, — the 
princely Countess of Derby, the royal Queen in Man." 

Charlotte de la Tremouille, Countess of Derby, was a French 
Protestant, a woman of immense spirit, and wife of that "Earl of 
Derby and King of Man beheaded in 165 1 at Bolton on the Moors, 
after having been made a prisoner," by the Roundheads, at Wiggin- 
Lane, fighting for the king. His countess had showed her own 
loyalty and courage by her memorable defence, during three months, 
— from February 28, to May 23, 1644, — of the ancient seat of the 
Earl's family, Lathom House in Lancashire, while it was assailed 
by a large Parliamentary force, that is said to have lost two thousand 
men in this unsuccessful effort against one brave woman and her 
household. The ancient fortified structure was subsequently demol- 
ished, and is replaced by one in modern Itahan style. It is not 
very far north of Liverpool and Knowsley Park, the magnificent 
seat of the Earls of Derby. In some of the words Sir Walter has 
given the countess she described her subsequent history. " After 
my husband's murder at Bolton, I took up the standard which he 
never dropped until his death, and displayed it with my own hand 
in our Sovereignty of Man. . . . But . . . disaster befell me. ... I 
would have held out that island . . . till the shoals which surround 
it had become safe anchorage. . . . The little kingdom of Man 
should have been yielded only when not an arm was left to wield a 
sword, not a finger to draw a trigger in its defence. But treachery 
did what force could never have done." Besieging forces of the 
Parhament could effect little, when " a base rebel, whom we had 
nursed in our own bosoms, betrayed us to the enemy." This was 
William Christian, whose career was described in the Manx 
records that suggested to Scott not a little of the plot of this novel, 
and whom the countess styled " my vassal, my servant, my friend, 
who immured me, with my infants, in one of my own castles, and 
assumed or usurped the tyranny of the island. . . . For more than 
seven years I have endured strict captivity. . . . But time had liberty 
and revenge in store." Changes occurred in Britain. A sudden 
rising was effected "that placed me at Hberty and in possession 
of the sovereignty of Man, as Regent for my son, the youthful Earl 
of Derby. Do you think I enjoyed that sovereignty long without 
doing justice on that traitor Christian ? " 



''PEVERIL OF THE PEAKr 37 1 

" How, madam ? " Lady Peveril is represented to have asked the 
countess. " Have you imprisoned Christian ?" 

" Ay," she repHed, "in that sure prison which felon never breaks 
from." According to certain forms of the laws or customs of her 
kingdom she had summarily executed him. Major Bridgenorth 
was at once aroused by knowledge of this act committed on not 
only a fellow-partisan, but on one with whom he strongly sympa- 
thized and whom he vehemently declared his "brother, — the 
brother of" his "blessed AHce, " his departed wife. He attempted 
to arrest the countess, but was disarmed and detained by the house- 
hold of Lady Peveril. Soon afterward, Sir Geoffrey Peveril arrived 
at the castle. Bridgenorth escaped, and it was deemed prudent to 
convey the countess to another residence ; for the major, as evidence 
began to show, was involved actively in some yet undeveloped con- 
spiracy that might seriously affect her. Attended by Sir Geoffrey 
and his retainers, she consequently departed for Cheshire. Reach- 
ing " the bottom of Hartley-nick, a pass very steep and craggy " 
(to which these lines do not direct), the party was waylaid by men 
under no other leader than the major himself, who, with a royal 
warrant, was yet bent upon arresting her. The knight tore in 
pieces the warrant, the major was otherways discomfited ; and, in 
the end, the countess was escorted to Vale Royal, whence, by 
Liverpool, she reached her kingdom of Man. Thither the action of 
the story next leads attention. 

Juhan Peveril was sent to the Isle to be educated under care of 
the countess with her son ; and the major, who also left his residence 
at the Peak, taking with him his daughter Alice, seems to have 
found his way in a similar direction, after lapse of a considerable 
period that passed quickly in the story. Thus " Julian . . . sharing 
the education of the young Earl of Derby ... in process of time 
. . . became a gallant and accomplished youth, and travelled for 
some time upon the continent with the young Earl." Meanwhile, 
the countess " resided in sohtary and aristocratic state, alternately 
on her estates in England and in " the " island." 

The Isle of Man is now easily accessible by steamer in about 
six hours from Liverpool. It presents considerable picturesque 
scenery, antiquarian interest, and modern society and comfort of 
the sea-side watering-place sort. Held once by Norwegian kings, 
then by Scots, then by Percys of Northumberland, at length, early 
in the fifteenth century, it became part of the domain of the 



37^ ''PEVERIL OF ThE PEAK:' 

Stanleys, with whom it remained, as has been narrated. Only 
at a comparatively recent date it finally became an actual part of 
Britain in common rights and regulations. It is about thirty miles 
long and from eight to ten miles wide ; and intersected by moun- 
tainous ridges, and having in many places a very bold coast that 
presents precipices even three hundred feet high, at one point at 
least, its scenery is sufficiently varied to be interesting. In no 
part of Britain are there more Danish remains, nor are druidic and 
later mediaeval curiosities infrequent. 

" Per saltzim, as it were," Scott wrote, — the story, passing over 
many years, showed tJie young Earl and Julian guests of the 
countess in the Castle of Rushin at Castletown, near the southern 
end of the island. 

This castle, situated in the centre of the town, was, in the seven- 
teenth century, " a solid and magnificent structure of freestone, 
erected on a rock, and considered as the chief fortress in the 
Island." It dates from the Danish period, and has been " by some 
writers " said to have borne " a great resemblance to Elsineur, in 
Denmark." The offices were converted into those of a modern 
residence. It was " the ancient mansion of the Kings of Man, 
who resided in it, in all the war-iike pomp of feudal magnificence." 
About two miles distant are the ruins of Rushin Abbey, where many 
of these royal personages were interred. 

The action of this portion of the story became more stirring and 
its scenery even more diversified. Major Bridgenorth had placed 
his daughter in charge of a member of his wife's family, and had 
travelled abroad. During excursions, Julian had discovered her 
retreat, " in an old house of singular structure," semi-monastic, 
massive, and ivy-clad, situated up a little green and rocky valley, 
lonely but picturesque, and at some Httle distance from Rushin 
Castle. There, Alice was growing from girlhood to womanhood, 
under charge of her relative and a rather elderly duenna, mistress 
Deborah Debbitch, through whose connivance Julian (more than 
once) gained an access to her that it was proposed by her other 
guardians should not be accorded him. He found her arrayed in 
Puritan costume, — "the sad-colored gown, the pinched and 
plaited cap which carefully obscured the profusion of long dark- 
brown hair, the small ruff, and the long sleeves." Yet her "exquis- 
ite form, though not, as yet, sufficiently rounded in the outlines to 
produce the perfection of female beauty, was able to sustain and 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK:' 373 

give grace even to this unbecoming dress." The major, who had 
arrived in that region, however, discovered their meetings, and was 
quite shrewd enough to think how affairs might go between two such 
young people, who had known each other from childhood, and who 
also had more than a fancy for each other. The possibilities of the 
case did not suit his plans. Although he acquiesced in the pohtical 
changes that had transferred power from his own party to that of 
the king, he was yet, as has been hinted, disaffected, and connected 
v/ith secret opponents to the royal rule. Additionally, he nourished 
a strong desire to revenge the death of his relative, caused by the 
Countess of Derby, and thus was continually watching for op- 
portunity to act against her. As he apostrophized a protrait of 
Christian : " Thou art not yet forgotten, my fair-haired Wilham ! 
The vengeance which dogs thy murderess is slow, — but it is sure ! " 
Scott, while describing how Julian and the major were thus brought 
together, has caused the latter to introduce one of the very few 
references that he has, throughout his works, made to American sub- 
jects. It is to that incident, in what is commonly called " Philip's 
War," when Goffe, the regicide, so remarkably appeared during an 
attack of Indians upon Hadley, Massachusetts, in 1675, — an inci- 
dent effectively introduced by Cooper in his " Wept of the Wishton 
Wish." " Amongst my wanderings," said the major, " the Trans- 
atlantic settlements have not escaped me ; more especially the 
country of New England, into which our native land has shaken 
from her lap, as a drunkard flings from him his treasures, so much 
that is precious in the eyes of God and of his children. There 
thousands of our best and most godly men — such whose righteous- 
ness might come between the Almighty and his wrath, and prevent 
the ruin of cities — are content to be the inhabitants of the desert, 
rather encountering the unenlightened savages, than stooping to 
extinguish, under the oppression practised in Britain, the light 
that is within their own minds. There I remained for a time." 
And there he witnessed that remarkable surprise in which the 
fugitive regicide so astonishingly rescued his own unconscious 
protectors. It will be difficult, without rendering this chapter too 
long, to follow here, through every change, the story of the 
affections of the two young people. It is another illustration 
of Shakespeare's frequently quoted lines : — 

•' Ah me ! for aught that ever I could read. 
Could ever hear by tale or history, 
The course of true love never did run smooth 1 " 



374 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. 



Julian's position and education, the major's schemes, principles, 
revengeful feeling towards the countess, and a quarrel that he had 
with his former friend, — Julian's father, — and other circumstances, 
were sufficient to render the young lover's existence other than one 
of ease and promise. This grievous fact soon became more ap- 
parent, and in scenery that seemed fitted to express it, changing as 
this did from Castletown to Peel, or Piletown, on the western coast 
of Man, where, during an alarm of an insurrection, the countess 
was at her Castle of Sodor or Holm Peel, " one of those extra- 
ordinary monuments of antiquity with which this singular and 
interesting island abounds." The castle " occupies the whole of a 
high rocky peninsula, or rather an island, for it is surrounded by 
the sea at high water, and scarcely accessible even when the tide is 
out, although a stone causeway, of great solidity, erected for the 
express purpose, connects the island with the main land. The 
whole space is surrounded by double walls of great strength and 
thickness ; and the access to the interior, at the time which we 
treat of, was only by two flights of steep and narrow steps, divided 
from each other by a strong tower and guard-house ; under the 
former of which there is an entrance arch. The open space within 
the walls extends to two acres, and contains many objects worthy of 
antiquarian curiosity. There were, beside the castle itself, two 
cathedral churches, — dedicated, the earlier to Saint Patrick, the 
latter to Saint Germain, — besides two smaller churches; all of 
which had become, even in that day, more or less ruinous. Their 
decayed walls, exhibiting the rude and massive architecture of the 
most remote period, were composed of a ragged gray-stone, which 
formed a singular contrast with the bright red freestone of which 
the window-cases, corner-stone, arches, and other ornamental parts 
of the building, were composed." Besides these structures were 
many vestiges of antiquity of a most weird and strange interest. 
Amid them all "arose the Castle itself, now ruinous, but in 
Charles II.'s reign well garrisoned, and, in a mihtary point of view, 
kept in complete order." It was a venerable building, a favorite 
residence of the Lords of Man, and contained large apartments, 
then almost stripped of their ancient furniture by the operations 
of Christian. In it, Juhan, returning -from a meeting with Alice, 
again met the young Earl, and made an acquaintance with that 
remarkable being, the dumb girl, Fenella, who was established in 
the service of the countess, and who was enacting a cunning part, 



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. 



3/3 



ultimately unmasked. Thence, he went to see Ahce, at her request, 
and received warning from her to beware of her father, although 
that peculiar person had become a favorer of Juhan's suit to his 
daughter. There Julian learned from the countess the existence 
of the celebrated Popish Plot that made so much stir in the years 
1678-80 ; and there he farther learned that he and his friends were 
being involved in its dangers, though he did not there learn fully 
the means producing this serious fact. In generous service to his 
almost life-long friend, the countess, he offered to make a visit to 
London in her behalf, — a visit of which there was strong need. 
Consequently, as our attention follows him when he left the castle, 
by night, we depart from Man, and change our researches to Lon- 
don. There much of the complicated portion of the action of 
the story was enacted. Its course thither was by Liverpool, where 
Julian saw a warrant for the arrest of his father ; and thus,, on the 
way, he was led to Martindale Castle, although he was warned by a 
friendly landlady not to go thither. Arriving there, he found great 
disorder, and his father and mother under arrest for implication in 
this Popish Plot. Major Bridgenorth had appeared there, as usual, 
and was a prominent actor. Naturally enough, Julian attempted 
to rescue his parents, but only succeeded in placing himself a 
prisoner in the major's house, — Moultrassie Hall, — where, however, 
he had an opportunity of again meeting Ahce. Meanwhile, Sir 
Geoffrey Peveril's park-keeper assembled a company, attacked and 
fired the major's house, and set Julian free. Ahce at the time, it 
appeared, was under charge of a dangerous person, a brother of 
the Christian executed on Man. Her position seemed much more 
critical to Julian, as he heard, at an inn, on his road to London, that 
this man and one Chiffinch, an emissary of the king, were employed 
by the adventurous and not over-virtuous Duke of Buckingham to 
carry her to Whitehall. His own position actually became decid- 
edly unpleasant, when he found that valuable despatches committed 
to him by the countess had been stolen while he slept. Prompt 
action, however, enabled him to recover these from the two abduc- 
tors. At length he arrived in London, in some of the old and fast- 
disappearing portions of which are laid the latter scenes of the 
story except the very closing scene, and that, like the first, is at 
Martindale Castle. Until, in the course of this imagined tour, 
" Scott's London " is described, an account of these other localities 
may be deferred. The places introduced have less association 



376 "THE betrothed:' 

with the characters and incidents of this novel than have those 
locaHties already mentioned. We learn of the Old Palace of 
Savoy, then large, but now only marked by its chapel ; of York 
House, of which only Inigo Jones's well-known water-gate once 
on the Thames remains ; of Whitehall ; of Northumberland 
House, Strand, now destroyed, but recently so imposing ; of old, 
departed, semi-gothic Newgate ; of the Tower, so varied in its 
interest (yet so little really suggestive of this story) ; and of 
Westminster Hall and Abbey, to which the same remark is ap- 
plicable. But chiefly we gain brilliantly painted pictures of the 
gay, dissolute, entertaining, though not over-honorable society of 
the court of Charles II., and of the "merry monarch" himself; 
of the plottings and excitements during his changeful reign ; and 
of the vicissitudes and final fortunes of the Peverils ; and of Alice 
Bridgenorth, and how true love between her and Julian Peveril 
finally had its course. 



XL. 

"The Betrothed." 

Twentieth Novel of the Series {first of the Tales of the Crzisaders) ; Ptihlishcd fune, 
1825; Author's age, 54; Time of actio7t, 1187-. 

'THRAVELLERS who have been exploring scenery of " Peveril 
-^ of the Peak," whether in Derbyshire or Man, may, very pos- 
sibly, desire to go afterwards to Wales or to Ireland. Their route 
thither, or to the west of England, renders easy and almost neces- 
sary a visit to Chester, now a great railway centre, and one of the 
most ancient and curious cities in Great Britain, — its only city that 
continues to be entirely surrounded by walls. These are carefully 
preserved. Within them will be found streets that seem to belong 
to the latter years of the Tudors, and that are lined by corridors, 
called " rows," formed in quaint old houses ; and, secluded among 
these, the venerable remains of the monastery of the Saxon saint 
Werberga, with its church — now a Cathedral that has during 
several years past been undergoing extensive restoration. 



" THE BE TR TEED:' 377 

Those who travel now through the deh'ghtful, rural country of 
the West of England are hardly apt to think of wars or of devasta- 
tions and tribulations. It is not easy to reahze there that a region 
now so peaceful and so carefully cultivated was for a long time 
ravaged by hostile people who dashed from the neighboring Welsh 
mountains. Yet that disturbed period can be suggested, and not 
disagreeably, during a walk upon those extraordinary, red, mould- 
ering walls of Chester, that have stood since the Romans in the 
year of our Lord 61 erected them around their castrujn, giving 
historic name to the place, and that in the Middle Ages received 
many striking attentions from the bold Welshmen. From the bat- 
tlements may be seen the picturesque stone bridge, built in 1280 
by command of Edward I., to replace a wooden structure that gen- 
tlemen from the Principahty seemed to have determined should be 
maintained in the worst possible order. These and other relics of 
the past will serve to bring to mind the time when the represented 
action of this stirring story occurred, during the often romantic hfe 
of the ages of the Crusades. 

Scott states, in an introduction that he wrote during the last year 
of his life, that, rather by the advice of a few friends, " ' The 
Tales of the Crusades' was determined upon as the title of" a 
series of novels, of which " The Betrothed " was the first. The 
second, "The Tahsman," was published simultaneously, and with 
it forms the series. The two were issued when there was a gene- 
ral supposition that they were by the " Author of Waverley," and 
that Scott was that " Author ; " and but a short time before circum- 
stances produced demonstration of the correctness of the supposi- 
tion. His works of fiction were then, as speculative business 
ventures, most rapidly projected. Scott himself, with some satiri- 
cal humor, has given an account of a supposed agency for producing 
them. It forms a part of the original introduction to the novel 
sketched in this chapter, and consists of " Minutes of Sederunt of 
a general meeting of the Shareholders designing to form a joint- 
stock company, united for the purpose of writing and publishing 
the class of works called the Waverley Novels, held in the Water- 
loo Tavern, Regent's Bridge, Edinburgh, ist June, 1825." The 
persons represented to be there present were characters of the 
previously issued novels. The date of this mythical meeting was 
only about seven months before bankruptcy revealed the commer- 
cial character of the production. Our attention now, however, is 



378 " THE betrothed:- 

more agreeably attracted, especially on the Welsh Border to affairs 
represented in " The Betrothed." 

This story is founded upon one Scott had long before men- 
tioned, — "a very interesting one ; and as it was sufficiently inter- 
woven with the Crusades, the wars between the Welsh and the 
Norman lords of the Marches was selected as a period" when 
the scenes of a work of imagination might be advantageously 
exhibited. 

" Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, accompanied by the learned 
Grialdus de Barri, afterwards Bishop of Saint David's," begins 
•• The Betrothed," was preaching in castle and in town, to prince 
and to knight, the cause of the Third Crusade, when Gwenwyn, 
British Prince of Powys-Land, was thought to have enrolled him- 
self in the army for recovering the Holy Sepulchre, and to have 
repressed his sworn hatred against his English neighbors, and thus 
apparently to have followed the teaching of the churchman who 
urged that war should be waged against the Infidel rather than 
between Christian men. In this condition he had accepted the 
Christmas hospitahty of Sir Raymond Berenger, " his nearest and 
hitherto one of his most determined enemies," — an old Norman 
warrior who in spite of all opposition held the " Castle of Garde 
Doloureuse, upon the marches of Wales," a very strong place, 
" which some antiquaries have endeavored to identify with the 
Castle of Colune, on the river of the same name. But the length of 
time, and some geographical difficulties, throw doubts upon this 
ingenious conjecture " (so Scott himself informs us). There are a 
number of ancient fortified places along the former fighting grounds 
between England and Wales that might suggest the Garde Dolou- 
reuse ; but as the author himself seems to have represented a 
generic rather than a specific example, the traveller may well 
enough fancy that stronghold at a place, not far from Chester, cer- 
tainly deserving a visit on account of its celebrity and picturesque 
attractiveness, — the Valley of Llangollen. There, will be found a 
quiet little town between great hills, and, among their recesses, the 
beautiful and considerable remains of Valle Crucis Abbey ; and, 
upon the lofty conical top of one of them, standing in "awful maj- 
esty, the dilapidated fragments of Castell Dinas Bran," or Caer 
Ddinas Bran — Crow Castle. To be sure, archaeological nicety may 
object that this castle is ancient Welsh, and therefore not sup- 
posably Norman ; but it dates back to the times of the Tale (and 



*' THE betrothed:' 379 

far more remotely indeed), and is very curious, especially in its 
site, and as appropriate and accessible and probable a scene as 
any of the action represented at the Garde Doloureuse. 

Dinas Bran occupies a commanding and peculiar situation, the 
visitor will admit, — one that seems to be especially created to 
be defended, — a summit area of perhaps two acres, from which, 
in every direction, the grass and gorse-grown hill slopes steeply 
and abruptly hundreds of feet into deep valleys. Beyond these, 
northward, rise, like vast terrace-walls, the long, gray limestone 
strata of a mountain side, and southward a range of great green 
hills ; while eastward, through the wide, deep, valley vista of Llan- 
gollen, appears the pleasant EngHsh country, extending to a level 
horizon miles distant ; and westward stands many a rough height 
of Welshland, penetrated by vales that lead to Corwen, or to Valle 
Crucis Abbey. Little remains of the castle (as the writer found it), 
only a ragged line of the straight west wall, a trifle of the south, 
more of the east, and a few broken arches and corridors and a vague 
sort of fosse north, built of small fragments of hmestone strongly 
cemented. Originally it occupied nearly the whole summit of the 
hill, and was about two hundred and ninety feet long and one hun- 
dred and forty feet wide. Within it were two wells of water ; and 
these, with the exterior fosse and the steep slopes around the strong 
walls, rendered it impregnable. Its broken remains are yet very 
conspicuous and picturesque amid the surrounding scenery. A 
pleasant path, perhaps a mile and a half long, leads between haw- 
thorne hedges and across fields to it from Llangollen town. While 
one walks the soft turf carpeting its now empty courtyard, and looks 
over the ruin out upon the wide landscape, one can fancy it to have 
been the castle where the Prince of Powys-Land visited Sir Ray- 
mond Berenger, and met that knight's daughter EveHne, his sole 
child, " the inheritor of his domains and of his supposed wealth, 
aged only sixteen, and the most beautiful damsel upon the Welsh 
marches." 

" Many a spear had already been shivered in maintenance of hex 
charms ; and the gallant Hugo de Lacy, Constable of Chester, 
one of the most redoubted warriors of the time, had laid at Eve- 
line's feet the prize which his chivalry had gained in a great tourna- 
ment held near that ancient town. Gwenwyn considered these 
triumphs as so many additional recommendations to Evehne ; her 
beauty was incontestable, and she was heiress of the fortress 



3So « THE BETROTHEDy 

which he had so much longed to possess, and which he began 
now to think might be acquired by means more smooth than those 
with which he was in the use of working out his will." To be sure 
his relations and those of his race to the English were adverse ; 
and there was indeed another objection to his suit for her hand, 
" which in later times would have been of considerable weight, — 
Gwenwyn was already married." But a soldier of the cross could 
find ecclesiastical means to obviate this difficulty. " The idea of the 
rejection of his suit did not for a moment occur to him." Alhance 
with a sovereign hke himself seemed an honor that could not be 
dechned. With this feeling, he prolonged his visit. He admired 
the heiress ; and after he left the Garde Doloureuse, as of course he 
eventually did, his admiration, as does happen sometimes in that 
of bold men for fair women, produced tremendous effects. 

He went to his seat, Powys Castle, and there held a festival, 
when the effects began to appear. This last place can be geo- 
graphically and architecturally identified, existing, as it yet does, 
about twenty miles west of Shrewsbury near Welshpool, and rather 
more than that distance across the country by rail, south from Dinas 
Bran. " Powys Castle," we are told, " is intimately connected with 
a large and important portion of the historic affairs that occurred 
in the Middle Ages ; and more particularly with those interesting 
events, which occurred in the warfare on the borders, denominated 
the marches of Wales. The first notice which history takes of 
this place is about the year 1 109, when" a euphoniously named 
gentleman, Cadwgan ap Bleddyn ap Cynfyn, flourished in its vicinity 
and founded the Castle, continued by a Gwynwynwyn who inher- 
ited it at about the period of this story. Without rehearsal of small 
details of history, it may be stated that Powys Castle is, or was, a 
venerable pile . . . pre-eminent for its fine situation and commanding 
terrace," worthy to "be made a Villa cfEste in miniature, situ- 
ated in a well-wooded park, about a mile from Pool, . . . and con- 
structed of red sandstone ... in the ancient style of domestic 
architecture, participating of the castle and mansion. . . . The site " 
overlooks " a vast tract of country, the greater part of which was 
formerly subject to its lords." Now a large and magnificent resi- 
dence, it was, in Gwenwyn's time, " a low, long-roofed edifice of red- 
stone, whence the castle derived its name . . . Castell-Coch, or the 
Red Castle, as it was then called." There Gwenwyn, holding his 
festival in a barbarous state, received a communication from Sir 



" THE betrothed:' 38 1 

Raymond declining a matrimonial alliance between him and the 
I-ady Eveline, for which it is quite safe to suppose he had apphed. 

The Prince, excessively displeased at this repulse, after the 
manner of the time and of his rank and race, demonstrated his 
emotion by collecting his people, and attacking Sir Raymond's 
castle, where he was bravely resisted. Unfortunately, however, 
Sir Raymond was killed during a sortie. The Lady Eveline, from 
the ramparts, beheld the death of her father ; but, brave as she 
was, she did not despair. Christian-Hke, she repeated prayers in 
the chapel, and then directed continued defence, that was stoutly 
maintained. In a not unparelleled manner, also, she made a vow ; 
and her vow was, to marry the man who should rescue her from 
the really dangerous position in which her fierce suitor was by 
degrees placing her. 

While one views the landscape presented from the broken walls 
of Dinas Bran, one can fancy how, after she had encouraged her 
garrison during a sharp attack on them, — when the grounds below 
were filled with wild, half-savage enemies, — how, after looking far 
and wide, — down the valley, particularly, — she gladly heard a dis- 
tant alarm, and how then she beheld Sir Hugo de Lacy, of Chester, 
with his troops, very opportunely relieve the beleaguered and dis- 
perse the Welsh. And one can fancy how the courageous and 
beautiful young lady thought of her vow, and of Sir Hugo's former 
devotion to her. Next one may imagine a procession bearing up 
the hill the recovered body of Sir Raymond, and afterward his 
honorable burial ceremony. Then one can follow the Lady Eveline 
during a visit to her deliverer. Sir Hugo, at his camp, where she 
soon received a more acceptable proposal than that of the expelled 
Prince of Powys-Land, — a proposal that did not result, however, 
in immediate marriage. ' 

Tbis sketch, without being an utter immolation of romance and 
its secrets, may narrate that, for reasons discoverable. Sir Hugo 
escorted the Lady to a Benedictine nunnery at Gloucester, of 
which her aunt was abbess. The style of journey and its inci- 
dents were wonderfully different from those of the railway ride 
now between Llangollen and that interesting cathedral city. The 
twelfth century travellers, spending a night on the way, tarried with 
a mysterious relative of Lady Evehne, — the old Lady of Baldring- 
ham, who lived in a " rude and lonely dwelling, low embowered 
among oaken woods," where she " still maintained the customs of 



58 2 " THE betrothed:' 

the Anglo-Saxons, and looked with contempt and hatred on all 
innovations that had been introduced since the battle of Hastings." 
The position of this mansion is probably not indicated upon any 
ordnance survey ; and, as the mansion itself has doubtlessly 
disappeared, we may simply recall from Scott's description that it 
" was only two stories high, low and massively built," with Saxon 
arched openings, and walls " mantled with various creeping plants ; " 
that the doorway " much resembled the ancient entrance to a ruined 
sepulchre ; " and that " not a soul appeared to acknowledge or 
greet " the arrival of the travellers, although they were invited. 

In this cheerful family retreat, however, they spent the night. 
And such a night ! As society required, a guard, for which 
the necessity became evident, was placed around the house. Its 
inmates retired ; the Lady Eveline solitary, to an odd apartment, 
haunted as of course an apartment would be in such a house, while 
her attendant remained in an adjoining room. After a time the 
latter heard the Lady Eveline scream violently in the ill-omened 
apartment, and heard also movements of a young soldier who had 
been watching vigilantly outside the house, and who, also hearing 
the scream, and dashing aside impediments, had leaped through the 
window into the haunted place. Thence he bore the Lady, who 
was fainting, to fresher and less malignant air. The cause of her 
alarm was the apparition of a spirit fatal to her race, — of a Bahr- 
Geist, to whose visits the family at Baldringham was subject. It 
was the form of a British woman once married to an ancestor of 
the family and murdered by him. 

The Lady Eveline heard, or believed that she heard, this spirit 
— while it held a bloody hand over her — say the words, — 

" Widow"d wife, and married maid, 
Betrothed, betrayer, and betray'd ! ' 

The Lady, in the condition in which she was, could not but be 
tryingly startled, and utter the scream that was heard. And she 
could not but afterwards hear the strange prophecy ringing around 
her. Naturally enough, her visit to this inhospitable and ill-boding 
mansion was not prolonged. With the party of Sir Hugo of Ches- 
ter she soon reached the Benedictine nunnery at Gloucester, where 
she remained nearly four months. During this time, the young 
soldier who had rescued her at Baldringham, and who had then 
suddenly disappeared, again had not a little to do about her and 



''THE BETROTHED." 3S3 

with her, — as the story will tell. It is sufficient to note here that 
Sir Hugo was betrothed to the Lady Eveline, and that this young 
soldier, his nephew, Sir Damian de Lacy, was appointed her guar- 
dian while her affianced went to the Holy Land, to be absent as a 
Crusader three years, during which period the Lady consented to 
remain betrothed. 

Gloucester, if it does not attract travellers by its associations 
with this story, should, by its other sources of interest. The 
venerable city, said to be older than the times of the Romans in 
Britain, has been the scene of many historical events ; and its 
remains of antiquity are important. Chief among the latter is the 
church that formerly belonged to the Benedictine abbey, — about 
the only existing portion of the establishment, yet perhaps the 
noblest extant object connected with the city or with this story. 
It is now a cathedral ; and although not one of the largest, it is one 
of the richest and most interesting in Great Britain. Like all 
cathedrals, while it bears generic characteristics, it has its own 
specific features, — a grand Norman nave, erected at about the 
period of the story; a later Lady Chapel ; a marvellous east window, 
eighty-six feet high, said to be the largest and highest in England ; 
a crypt, — the most ancient portion of the structure, — about as per- 
fect as when left by its builders, and that, massive, solemn, and 
sombre, is one of the most interesting in all gothic art ; and, finally, 
and most distinguished, extensive cloisters, that are almost unique, 
— long, complete, elaborate, and beautiful, with exquisitely panelled 
sides, and fan-traceried, groined ceilings. These cloisters form a 
hollow square that measures 146 by 145 feet, and have ambulato- 
ries 19 feet broad and 18.6 feet high. A central tower, "perhaps the 
best proportioned, the most sumptuous and stately of any in Eng- 
land, was built by Abbot Seabrooke, about 1455 • " i^s pinnacles 
attain a height of 225 feet. From it is a wide and varied view. 
The entire external length of the cathedral is 423 feet, and the 
internal, 400 feet. No moderate space can contain an enumera- 
tion of all that is interesting in this structure. It escaped provi- 
dentially many of the ravages of the Reformation and of the Civil 
War ; and in pious keeping may remain long a most instructive 
and delightful monument of ancient art and of religious devotion. 

After Sir Hugo left England, the Lady Eveline returned to tlie 
Castle of Garde Doloureuse. There, reappeared an erratic individ- 
ual who had been in and out of the story before this period, — 



3S4 ''THE BETROTHED'' 

Randal de Lacy, a cousin of Sir Hugo, who at this advent was dis- 
guised as a dealer in hawks and falcons. He offered specimens of 
these birds for sale, and found purchasers. The chief success of 
his efforts, however, was apparent when he, or his wares, influenced 
the Lady Eveline and some of her followers to attempt a hawk- 
ing excursion to a place called the Red Pool situated towards 
the hills nearly three miles from the castle. A different sort of 
game was started than the party expected : it was attacked by wild 
Welshmen, and the lady was seized, blindfolded, and forced to a little 
cavern. These pages can hardly guide explorers to this hole, and 
perhaps a visit to it is not absolutely necessary to full understanding 
of the story ; for the lady was soon rescued from it by a party under 
Sir Damian de Lacy, and again estabhshed in her castle. After 
this exhibition of Randal's disposition, time and events brought an 
Insurrection that Sir Damian was, in high quarters, suspected of 
favoring. While he was at the castle, a demand for his surrender 
was made in the name of the king. The Lady Eveline refused the 
summons, and protected him. Consequently another siege of the 
Garde Doloureuse ensued, laid by royal forces, which the precious 
Randal joined. At length the castle was stormed and taken. The 
history of the Lady Evehne's betrothal was not, however, ended. 
A serious crisis in it ensued. A report arose that Sir Hugo had 
died while serving the cause of the cross beneath its banners. Sir 
Damian, the guardian (but, as easily enough may have been learned, 
also the lover), fell into trouble. Randal the robber began to flourish 
as the wicked do not deserve to flourish. The castle was in con- 
fusion. The Betrothed was in distress, and her " engagement " a 
perplexed and perplexing subject. Just then Sir Hugo returned ; 
unexpected, disguised, unrecognized, — as Crusaders frequently 
were. The events of the second siege and of the crisis that fol- 
lowed this advent of Sir Hugo were full of interest and of romance. 
The scene of their occurrence, the Garde Doloureuse, identified 
with Dinas Bran, may render that lordly site still more attractive ; 
and the writer can hardly wish travellers in North Wales a pleas- 
anter summer evening than one like that he spent there recall- 
ing Sir Walter's chivalrous story, and viewing a brilliant sunset, 
that, with charming effect, spread its radiance upon the broken 
walls of the castle and over the broad hills. 

Near the close of the betrothal of the Lady Eveline, the Bahr- 
Geist once more appeared to her, but with a countenance that " was 



" KENIL WOR TH:' 385 

no longer resentful ; " while in mystic calmness and beauty the 
spirit- voice repeated or chanted, — 

" Widow'd wife and wedded maid, 
Betrothed, betrayer, and betray'd, 
All is done that has been said : 
Vanda's wrong has been y-wroken — 
Take her pardon by this token." 

The unearthly visitor then departed, and was never again seen 
And, finally, we learn that the Lady Eveline lived long in her castle, 
the fortunes of which are adequately told by the Author, who has 
seemed to invest with a renewed hfe the crumbHng ruin on the 
mighty hill at Llangollen ; and who has delightfully introduced us 
to the picturesque country around it and to the stir and the romance 
of the times of the Crusades, and of the wars on the Welsh borders ; 
and who has recorded the manner in which " ended the trials and 
sorrows of The Betrothed." 



XLI. 

Kenilworth.' 



Thirteenth Novel of the Series; Written in 1820 ; Published January, 1821 ; 
Author's age, 50 ; Time of action, 1575. 

nr^HE pleasant town of Leamington in Warwickshire combines 
-*■ the comfort, entertainments, and freshness of a modern 
watering-place, and a vicinity abounding with old-world charms, in 
a delightful manner rivalled by few similar resorts. It is situated 
at the very heart of Old England, among scenes unusually sugges- 
tive or characteristic of the historic or romantic records of the past 
in a country remarkably distinguished by them. A few miles distant 
from it is picturesque, well-kept Elizabethan Charlcote Hall, and 
beyond this Stratford-on-Avon. Little guidance is needed there 
from the Red Horse Inn (in which Washington Irving's room is 
yet shown to Americans), to the quaint, oak-framed house in which 
William Shakspeare was born ; and to the beautiful church that 
stands gray and venerable in the perpetual, holy quiet of its green 
and shaded grounds, beside the calm river, and enshrines whatevei 

2S 



386 " KENIL WOR TEr 

of him that was mortal, — the whole an admirable model of an ap- 
propriately placed church. Through the vicinit}^ are paths in which 
Ave may now walk where he walked, as where one crosses the fields 
to the picturesque cottage at Shottery that now contains, or recently 
contained, the same high-backed seat before the same fireside 
where he sat with Anne Hathaway. In another direction from 
Leamington are those romantic houses, Guy's Cliff and Stoneleigh 
Abbey ; and distant only two miles in another is the ancient town 
of Warwick with its curious church and elaborate Beauchamp 
Chapel, its gateways and its grand castle, — one of the most perfect 
and imposing relics of the feudal ages in Europe, — whose lofty 
gray towers dominate proudly over the river Avon, and whose 
almost unrivalled courtyard receives visitors, seemingly, into the 
times of the Edwards. Ten miles northward is Coventry, with its 
lofty spires, its Saint Mary's Hall, and its old streets, into which 
Peeping Tom still looks down and reminds us of Godiva. About 
midway between Coventry and Warwick or Leamington is Kenil- 
worth with the shattered but extensive remains of its famous Castle, 
universally known by its history, its romance, and, in no small 
degree, by its associations with the work sketched in this chapter ; 
in which Scott has so graphically, vividly, and affectingly pictured 
the briUiancy and pathos of its m.ost splendid fortunes, and by which 
he has rendered the whole of its area his own enchanted ground, 
and its walls and towers one of his strongholds, all enlivened by 
impressive characters whom he has revived or created. An impor- 
tant portion of the action of this work is represented to have been 
here, althougli many of the scenes are laid elsewhere. Aspects of 
the localities of the latter have, however, changed so much since 
the time described in the story that they suggest Httle of it ; while 
Kenilworth remains both one of the most imposing relics chiefly of 
that period, and the most prominent and attractive object associated 
with Scott's work. It is also very accessible. Travellers, whether 
or not they follow the route described on these pages, will almost 
of course visit its vicinity ; for if they explore only one rural district 
of England, this should be the one, not alone from its interest, but 
from its position upon the direct way between Liverpool, or Chester, 
or North Wales, or Derbyshire, and London. After brief attention 
tc the literary history of the novel, and to a few places remote from 
Kenilworth, we can, in nearer and more careful view, reaHze the 
fascinations of the grand old Castle. 



" KENIL WOE TB:' 3S7 

"A certain degree of success ... in the delineation of Queen 
M^ry,'' [in "The Abbot"] wrote Scott in 1831, " naturally induced 
die author to attempt something similar respecting ' her sister and 
lier foe,' the celebrated Elizabeth." Among the various concep- 
tions of that remarkable personage, " I have," he continued. " en- 
deavored to describe her as at once a high-minded sovereign, and 
a female of passionate feelings, hesitating betwixt the sense of her 
rank and the duty she owed her subjects on the one hand, and on 
the other her attachment to a nobleman, who, in external qualifica- 
tions at least, amply merited her favor. The interest of the story 
is thrown upon that period when the sudden death of the first 
Countess of Leicester seemed to open to the ambition of her 
husband the opportunity of sharing the crown of his sovereign." 

The later life and the f^te of this reputed first countess form the 
central interest of the action of the story. The leading incidents 
appear real, " if we can trust Ashmole's ' Antiquities of Berkshire,' " 
in which these are narrated. The scene of the catastrophe they 
brought on was "a manor, anciently belonging to the monks of 
Abington," " in which was a chamber called Dudley's chamber, 
where the Earl of Leicester's wife was murdered." Ashmole 
has given a long account of the affair ; but, wrote Scott, "my first 
acquaintance with the history was through the more pleasing me- 
dium of verse," — "a ballad, or rather a species of elegy, on the 
subject of Cumnor Hall." " The first stanza especially had a 
peculiar species of enchantment for the youthful ear of the author, 
the force of which is not even now entirely spent" [1831]. The 
opening and also the closing lines of the poem are these : — 

" The dews of summer night did fall ; 
The moon, sweet regent of the sky, 
Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, 
And many an oak that grew thereby. 

Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd, 

And pensive wept the Countess' fall, 
As wandering onwards they've espied- 

The haunted towers of Cumnor Hall." 

So much did Scott fancy the musical lines of portions of this 
fine ballad, that he at first wished to give the novel the same title, 
" Cumnor Hall ; " but in deference to the publisher, Constable, 
he substituted the title it bears, — " Kenilworth." Lockhart informs 
us that it appeared, hke " Ivanhoe," "in 3 vols, post 8vo," and that 
it " was one of the most successful " of Scott's prose works " at the 



388 " KENIL WOR TE:' 

time of publication ; and it continues, and I doubt not will ever 
continue, to be placed in the very highest rank of prose fiction. 
The rich variety of character and scenery and incident in this 
novel has never, indeed, been surpassed ; nor, with the one excep- 
tion of the Bride of Lammermoor, has Scott bequeathed us a 
deeper and more affecting tragedy than that of Amy Robsart. 
" ' Kenilworth,' " said Jeffrey, " rises almost, if not altogether, to the 
level of ' Ivanhoe,' — displaying, perhaps, as much power in assem- 
bling together, and distributing in striking groups, the copious his- 
torical materials of that romantic age, as the other does in eking 
out their scantiness by the riches of the author's imagination. . . . 
The great charm and glory of the piece, however, consists in the 
magnificence and vivacity of the descriptions with which it abounds ; 
and which set before our eyes, with a freshness and force of color- 
ing which can scarcely ever be gained except by actual observation, 
all the pomp and stateliness, the glitter and solemnity, of that heroic 
reign. . . . The most surprising piece of mere description, how- 
ever, that we have ever seen, is that of Amy's magnificent apart 
ments at Cumnor Place, and of the dress and beauty of the lovely 
creature for whom they were adorned." 

The masterly composition, the dramatic effect, and much of 
the historic probability and correctness of this work are superior 
to unfavorable criticism. The strict examination and accurate nar- 
ration necessary in the statement of accomphshed facts, however, 
appear to show that real circumstances have, to some extent, been 
adapted to the impressive development of the story. Mr. George 
Adlard, in a very full examination of the real history of " Amye 
Robsart and the Earl of Leycester" (8vo, London, 1870), informs 
us that she never was his countess, as he was not created an earl 
until several years after her death ; that " Sir John Robsart, her 
father, died several years previous to " that event, and that her 
marriage " with Sir Robert Dudley took place at Sheen (now Rich- 
mond) on the 4th of June, 1550, with great splendour, in the presence 
of Edward VI., who has recorded the fact in his journal." The 
same critic also informs us that "Amye was doubtless born at 
Stanfield Hall, Norfolk, in all probabihty in the year 1532," and 
that " it is perhaps not too much to say that the mystery " of her 
" death (at Cumnor Place) will probably never be cleared up." He 
farther states that, "in 1573, thirteen years after the death of Lady 
Amye Dudley, and two years previous to the Kenilworth revels 



"Kenilworth:' 3S9 

(the period of this story), Leycester had privately married Douglas 
Howard, Lady Sheffield, which marriage was kept a profound 
secret." The character of Varney in the novel does not appear 
to be founded on fact. Bartlett's account of Cumnor Place remarks 
that some representations of it in the novel show great variation 
from "sober history." 

Any comparison of Scott's creations with actual events or per- 
sons is, however, apt to suggest an essay to prove that "Macbeth" 
or " Hamlet " are historically inaccurate, and that scenery used in 
representing them is neither a Scottish or Danish castle ; or that 
Titian's Venus is not the goddess ; or Michel Angelo's Moses, the 
great leader. We assent to facts, but turn with admiration and 
delight to the master-piece of art. 

"It is the privilege of tale-tellers (wrote Scott) to open their 
story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the 
humor of each displays itself without ceremony or restraint. This 
is especially suitable when the scene is laid during the old days of 
merry England ; " during which, characteristics of the times and 
of the people rendered a place of this sort very appropriate for 
such an exhibition. Accordingly, the action of this novel begins 
" during the eighteenth year of Queen Elizabeth," at " an excellent 
inn of the old stamp, conducted, or, rather, ruled by Giles Gos- 
ling " in "the village of Cumnor, within three or four miles of 
Oxford." Every one who travels in Britain is supposed sometime 
to visit that venerable city. This tour leads to it, not only for an 
excursion from it to Cumnor, but also for one to the scenery of 
"Woodstock" near it, — a sketch of which will be given in the 
next chapter. 

Cumnor — to which the way from Oxford is across a pleasant, 
although open country — is a pretty village of thatched cottages 
scattered over a long and very gentle slope of land. Upon a slight 
eminence is the church, a low, strongly built, rough-cast building, 
in ancient Saxon and pointed styles, and surrounded by a green 
church-yard, according to the beautiful English custom. There is 
a wide view from it over portions of the counties of Oxford, Glou- 
cester, and Berks ; and close to it on a slope below, over the site 
of the Hall. This edifice was sometime ago shown by fragments, 
parts of which formed a farm-house, and part contained a room 
called the Dudley chamber, in which, according to tradition, the 
countess was murdered. The surrounding ground is grass-grown^ 



390 " KENIL IVOR th:' 

and shows by uneven surfaces that terraces and parterres may 
once have covered it. A few noble oaks yet grow " thereby," while 
humble but quaint buildings and farm-grounds environ the spot. 
The mansion, we are told, was " a large monastic building, with a 
quadrangular court in the centre," " called Cumnor Place," belong- 
ing to " the abbots of Abingdon, who formerly had a seat or place 
of retirement here." Little can be said of the excellent old inn. 
Its age and its quaint name suggest one of those curious, ancient 
pubhc-houses, scattered through Old England, and only through 
its more primitive parts. The " Black Bear " at Cumnor may not 
be seen by bodily eyes, but its counterpart may perhaps be found in 
" The Swan " at Mansfield, or " The Mitre " at Oxford ; or, on an 
humble scale possibly, in the neat " Nag's Head " below Hellvellyn, 
or " ' The Golden Grove ' by St. Anne's Hill, Chertsey." Certainly 
it ranks among the inns of England famous in literature, from 
" The Tabard " at Southwark to " The Great White Horse " at 
Ipswich, wherein Mr. Pickwick had his romantic nocturnal adven- 
ture with a middle-aged lady. 

At the " Black Bear," Cumnor, accordingly, and at the beginning 
of the story, we are introduced to Giles GosHng, its corpulent, 
consequential landlord, and to one whom he recognized among his 
guests, — Michael Lambourne, who had gone to the wars in the 
low countries an unpromising youth, and had returned a bold 
soldier. The latter, during the evening, became acquainted with 
a mysterious, quiet traveller, who said that his name was Tres- 
silian, — from which the landlord inferred that he was a Cornish 
man. Although Tressilian and Lambourne were, from the first, evi- 
dently of different character, they formed a plan to visit on the 
next day the "Place," about which and certain inexplicable persons 
occupying it there occurred some general talk among the company 
at the inn. The two adventurers succeeded in obtaining an en- 
trance as they proposed, and ai interview with the master of the 
house, Mr. Anthony Foster, represented by the novel to have been 
a repulsive, inscrutable man, who, from "one of Queen Mary's 
Papists," had become "one of Queen Ehzabeth's Protestants," 
and from poverty had risen to unaccountable wealth, but never to a 
desirable reputation. His tombstone in Cumnor church, however, 
affirmed that he was a model country gentleman, — almost a Sir 
Roger de Coverley. The " Place " was gloomy and weird as any 
haunted castle that Mrs. Radcliffe herself could have imaoined. 



'^kenilworth:' 391 

If the seats of living families could, allowably, be associated with 
it, several ancient houses in England might be named as its repre- 
sentatives, — among others, Compton-Winyates, that stands in a 
remote spot in the southern part of Warwickshire. Lambourne 
engaged Foster in the library, — the books of which were disap- 
pearing as those of other valuable collections disappeared after the 
suppression of monastic institutions left them in charge of new, 
purified, and enlightened holders, — they furnished kindling for the 
cook, and waste for the groom. Tressilian, meanwhile, waited in a 
lofty, oak-ceiled room, adjoining, that was lighted by a window with 
stone shafts and painted glass. It soon became apparent that his 
motives for entering the house were as different as well could be 
from those of Lambourne, whom he had used only as a means to 
an end. While he waited, he was surprised, according to his evi- 
dent desire, by the entrance of a " beautiful and richly attired 
female . . . not above eighteen years old," who at first mistook 
him for another, but who, with no little agitation, recognized him 
and demanded the cause of his visit. He replied that he came 
from "her broken-hearted father, the aged Sir Hugh Robsart," 
who was lying near to death, at the family home, " Lidcote Hall, on 
the frontiers of Devonshire," and who had desired him to find his 
daughter Amy, and to induce her to return " from the villain who, 
under disguise of friendship, abused every duty of hospitahty, 
and stole " her from that home. But the beautiful young lady — 
Amy Robsart herself — could not, or would not, hear such a men- 
tion of the brilHant and exalted man who had, in every sense, capti- 
vated her. Tressilian, too earnest in his well-intended endeavor 
to remove her from a virtual imprisonment into which she had 
been fascinated, only succeeded in alarming her, and her vigilant 
watchman, — Anthony Foster, — and thus procuring her abrupt 
withdrawal and his own expulsion from the " Place." He mistook 
his way out and reached, a postern-gate instead of the main-gate, 
and encountered a certain Sir Richard Varney. Former acquaint- 
ance and a quarrel between the two produced a mutual recog- 
nition and a sword-fight that might have resulted fatally to Varney, 
and thus have rid this story of an accomplished rascal, had not 
Lambourne arrived opportunely and prevented such an issue. 
Varney soon met Foster ; and they together, in virtuous council, 
showed themselves interested and relentless agents of the great 
Karl of Leicester. Into his service Lambourne was received. 



392 



''Kenilworth: 



Subsequently Tressilian departed for the west ; and the countess 
received the earl in the gorgeous chambers he had furnished for 
her at the Hall, Scott's graphic description of which was so much 
praised by Jeffrey. There, dazzled by her position, but ignorant of 
its dangers, Amy Robsart briefly enjoyed the brilliant society of her 
exalted admirer. 

Meanwhile Tressilian, with such tidings respecting her as he 
could carry, was conducted, by a strange dwarf guide, towards her 
father's residence. His agency in her affairs was partly explained 
by the fact that he had been betrothed to her, with her father's 
approbation ; and that this journey was an effort of almost filial 
affection. While he was on the road, some necessary attention 
to his horse led him to the rather mythical " Wayland Smith's 
Forge," in the Vale of the White Horse, near Uffington Castle, 
Berkshire, — a region worth exploring for its celebrity in Saxon 
annals and traditions., a portion of which are delightfully told to us 
by Mr. Thomas Hughes in " The Scouring of the White Horse." 
The forge, a Druid relic, derived its name from a farrier, as 
mythical as itself, whose acquaintance Tressilian made, and whose 
services he engaged for some coming time. On the next morning 
he reached the home of Amy's father. 

A few miles from the forge is a place that he perhaps passed, and 
that can now interest travellers, — Wantage, the birth-place of 
Alfred the Great. Near it is Uflington Castle, a supposed British 
stronghold once occupied by the Romans. About a mile from the 
castle is the White Horse Hill, that deiives its name from a large, 
rude figure of a horse cut in turf over a chalk-bed forming the 
hillside. It is the spot where, during the memorable battle of 
Ashdown, in the year 871, King Alfred set up the Saxon standard — 
a white horse — and gained a great victory over the marauding 
Danes. 

"Carv'd rudely on the pendant soil, is seen 
The snow-white courser streaching o'er the green: 
The antique figure scan with curious eye, 
The glorious monument of victory ! 
There England rear'd her long-dejected head ; 
There Alfred triumph'd, and invasion bled." 

The " scouring " of this Horse is an annual custom of clear- 
ing it from weeds or rubbish that may accumulate upon it and 
obscure it. 

"About noon of the third day after Tressilian's leaving Cumnor" 



" KENIL WOE THy 393 

he "arrived at Sir Hugh Robsart's seat, called Lidcote Hall, on the 
frontiers of Devonshire," adjoining Exmoor forest. It was an 
ancient mansion, low, moated, turreted, and ivy-mantled, and had 
a courtyard entered by an archway beneath a clock-tower. Stan- 
field Hall, Norfolk, the probable early home of Amy Robsart, is, 
or was, an edifice of no great size, partly in the style common 
to the reigns of the last two Henrys. Travellers in the west of 
England can, however, find an admirable representative of Lidcote 
Hall, situated almost where Scott has described that seat to have 
been, and built almost in its style, — Cotehele, a curious and 
charming residence belonging to the Earls of Mount Edgecombe, 
and standing on the Cornish "frontiers of Devonshire," about ten 
miles north of Plymouth. Its present proprietors inherited it, 
we are told, about five hundred years ago, from a now extinct 
family. It commands a view over Dartmoor forest and the river 
Tamar. Around it is a park of elms, beeches, and other trees 
garlanded with ivy ; and, amid the exquisite sylvan beauty they 
present, — secluded from modern time and the prosaic world, in 
the stillness and repose of a dreamland, — it seems a creation of 
the romance of the lives of many generations past. It is "an 
irregular stone building, enclosing a small quadrangle, the en- 
trance to which is through a square gateway tower on the south." 
It has also an exterior court, and, at the north angle, a larger 
tower that contains the principal apartments. Its well-kept granite 
walls, dark gray, lichen-grown, ivy-draped, are chiefly of the style 
and date of Henry VI I. 's time, and have battlements and square- 
headed, stone-shafted windows. The interior is even more pictu- 
resque, and renders the house a monument of many generations 
of domestic hfe and of old-world charms that is rivalled by few in 
any country. Days of the Tudors and of the Stuarts seem to 
shine again around us there. The rooms, with oak finishings ; 
great, curious fireplaces ; tapestries that cover walls and doors ; 
quaint windows ; carved cabinets bearing glass, brass, and delf- 
ware, — apphances of luxury long ago ; and other fittings un- 
changed for centuries, — are more like realizations of fancy than of 
fact. Cotehele, indeed, may well represent Scott's creation ; and 
the gentle, loving spirit of his Amy Robsart can only invest it with 
one more attractive charm. 

Tressilian had an interview with Sir Hugh Robsart, at his seat, 
and informed him respecting the situation of his daughter, and 



394 



''Kenilworth: 



received from him authority to visit the royal court and there to 
endeavor to recover her. Attention is consequently led to the Earl 
of Suffolk's residence, Say's Court, "an ancient house then near 
Deptford," afterwards also occupied by Evelyn, that has, like many 
Elizabethan mansions, now disappeared. Its site is, or recently 
was, marked by a workhouse in the present large dockyard on the 
Thames below London. The earl's residence was within the region 
of the court and of its high hfe, to much of which the novel intro- 
duces us in a very interesting manner. The portion of the work 
relating to it presents vivid pictures of the reign of the great Queen, 
and of its romantic characteristics and brilhant personages, that 
ha.'e never been surpassed. Several scenes are laid near London, 
but in places that have changed very much ; even Greenwich Pal- 
ace, the most prominent, has been succeeded by the well-known 
and far more modern structures of the Hospital that already seems 
old. The difficulties of extricating a young and beautiful woman 
from the snares of a powerful nobleman, a royal favorite in that 
court, are fully illustrated. Sir Richard Varney, an incarnation 
of unscrupulous — some Americans would properly enough say, 
God-forsaken — ambition, appeared in all his rascality to serve the 
earl's interests, — and also, collaterally, his own. A crisis in the 
fate of Amy seemed reached, when it appeared that the earl must 
either become decidedly the Queen's favorite, or be totally wrecked 
in fortune and in honor. 

Then the action of the story returned to ill-omened, gloomy 
Cumnor Hall, where the necessities of the earl's position, and the 
projects and humanity of Varney, were demonstrated during a few 
days' visit that the latter attempted there, — at which time he en- 
deavored to poison the betrayed woman who obstructed the soaring 
aspirations of the ambitious man whom she had trusted. The full 
measure of brutality to which she was subjected there need not be 
expressed here. Able to endure that no longer, and aware of the 
practices upon her life, she determined to escape from what was 
virtually close imprisonment, and to appeal to her lord, in person, at 
his seat of pride and power and splendor, — Kenilworth, — whither 
he had gone to receive his sovereign in that stately visit that 
marked the culmination of its glories, and that has become so 
famous in history. She made her way by night from Cumnor. 
attended by Janet Foster, her maid, and by Wayland Smith (ser- 
vant to Tressilian), and succeeded in eluding pursuit undertaken 



" KENIL WOR THy 395 

by Varney, although she did thus by the ignoble means of joining 
a party of revellers bound to the castle. Indeed, so strangely do 
affairs in this world sometimes go, that only by the friendly aid of 
a juvenile juggler "did the unfortunate Countess of Leicester 
approach, for the first time, the magnificent abode of her almost 
princely husband." Introduced thus, also, into the then vast and 
lordly structure, she succeeded in obtaining lodgings in the upper 
part of what has been called Mervyn's, or the strong tower, that is 
still easily recognizable. There, continuing disguised, she wrote a 
note to Leicester, securing " it with a braid of her own beautiful 
tresses, fastened by what is called a true-love knot." This note 
she sent to its destination by Wayland Smith, who had carefully 
attended her. "Give it, I pray you," she said, "into Lord Leices- 
ter's own hand, and mark how he looks on receiving it." And 
well might be marked that effect, though Wayland Smith, who had 
served the unhappy lady faithfully thus far, prudently for her sake 
and his own, might not in person be a witness of the great lord's 
perusal of it at that time, when, aspiring even to sharing his sove- 
reign's honors and rank, he was receiving her within those very 
walls, — her "hon " but woman's heart all unaware what proof of 
him they held. Kenilworth was then crowded with guests, from 
those of highest degree to humble maskers. Through all its wide 
bounds it was rich and imposing as few seats have been. Every 
thing imaginable had been arranged to yield adequate honor to the 
presence there of the greatest living queen, whose highest favor its 
lord was almost securing. But Dudley, Earl of Leicester, thought 
as little as common men are apt to think of what may be written 
upon the folded leaves of the future ; and the grand reception, and 
the even grander schemes he proposed, were inaugurated by the 
words that his gigantic porter spoke when Elizabeth reached the 
entrance tower : — 

" Come, come, most perfect Paragon, passe on with ioy and blisse, 

Most worthy welcome Goddes guest, whose presence gladdeth all, 

Haue here, haue here, both club and keyes my selfe, my warde I yeelde." 
Euan gates and all, j'^ea Lord him selfe, — 

At this portion of the story attention turns to Kenilworth itself. 
Its general position and history may, after the account already 
given, be described in the language of Robert Laneham, "clerk 
of the council chamber-door," whose " letter " describing this Royal 
reception is one of the curiosities of literature. 



395 ''KENILWORTHr 

" The Castl (he wrote) hath name of Killingwoorth, but of truth 
grounded uppon feythfull storie Kenelwoorth. (One will observe 
that he is uncommonly careful about spelling.) It stonds in War- 
vvykshyre, a Ixxiiii myle northwest from London, and az it wear in 
the Nauell of Englande. foure myle sumwhat South from Couen- 
tree a proper Cittee, and a lyke distauns from Warwyk, a fayre 
Sheere Toun on the North : In ayr sweet and hollsum, raised 
on an eazy mounted hill, iz sett eeuenlie coasted with the froont 
straight intoo the East, hath the tenaunts and Tooun about it, that 
pleasantly shifts, from dale to Hyll sundry whear wyth sweet Springs 
bursting foorth : and iz so plentifullie well sorted on euery side 
intoo arabl, meado, pasture, wood, water, & good ayrz az it appeerz 
to have need of nothing that may perteyn too lining or pleazure. 
Too auauntage hath it, hard on the West, still nourisht with many 
liuely Springs, a goodly Pool of rare beauty, bredth, length, deapth, 
and store of all kinde fresh water fish, delicat, great and fat, and 
also of wild fooul byside. . . . The Castl, . . . (az by the name 
& by storiez, well may be gathered) waz first reared by Kenulph 
and his young sun and successor Keiielm : born both indeed within 
the Ream heer, but yet of the race of Saxons : and reigned kings 
of Marchlond [Mercia] fro the yeer of oour Lord. 798. too 23. yeerz 
toogyther, aboue 770. yeer ago. Although the Castl hath one aun- 
cient strong and large Keep that iz called Ceazarz Tour, rather (as I 
have good cauz to think) for that it iz square and hye foormed after 
the maner of Cezarz Fortz than that euer he bylt it." And as 
Laneham continued addressing " hiz freend a Citizen and Merchaunt 
of London," to whom he sent this letter, the writer may add, "noow 
I am a littl in. Master Martin ile tell you all." 

The approach to the castle, from almost any direction, is through 
picturesque and characteristic English rural scenery, abounding 
with green fields, stately shade-trees, trim hedge-rows, fine resi- 
dences, curious old cottages, and romantic, wooded nooks. The 
" Tooun," adjoining the castle, is a busy little country town. With 
all its industrial resources, however, the people living in it, as 
Elihu Burritt writes, " would probably confess that the principal 
ijource of their income is derived from their vested interest in Sir 
Walter Scott's * Kenilworth,' not in the real castle walls. Take 
away that famous novel, and, with all the authenticated history that 
remains attached to them, not one in five of the visitors they now 
attract would walk around them with admiration. In fact they are 



''Kenilworth: 



397 



more a monument to the genius of the great novelist than to the 
memory of Elizabeth and the Earl of Leicester." " The visitor's 
day-book at the hotel," Burritt adds, " will show how many come 
from both hemispheres and all their continents to see the scene of 
Sir Walter Scott's romance." Dr. Beattie gives similar evidence. 
" The romance of ' Kenilworth,' " he remarks, " it is probable, has 
brought . . . more pilgrims to this town and neighborhood — pil- 
grims of the highest rank — than ever resorted to its ancient shrine 
of the Virgin, more knights and dames than ever figured in its tilts 
and tournaments." The entrance to the area of the castle itself 
is from a now long, straggling, rather picturesque than cheerful 
street of the village, west of the old church of St. Nicholas, and 
beside the Gate-House, built by the Earl of Leicester. The latter 
is a lofty, oblong structure, with an octagonal turret at each angle, 
and an enriched Elizabethan archway through its longer side. It 
is built of firmly textured red sandstone, now grown brownish- 
gray, and is yet tolerably entire and inhabitable, and, as Scott 
remarks, "equal in extent, and superior in architecture, to the 
baronial castle of many a northern chief" Passing this tower, one 
enters the extensive "Base Court," and, by degrees, realizes "the 
greatness and state " of Leicester's seat, and the truth of the survey 
made of it, under royal commission, sometime after the period of 
the tale, yet when it was complete. This survey, perhaps as 
graphic a description of it when entire as can be quoted, is entitled 
" The Castle of Killingworth Situate Upon a Rock," and gives the 
following details of it : — 

"Circuit .... I. The Circuite whereof within the walls conteyn- 
eth 7 acres, upon which the walls are so spacious 
& faire that two or three persons may walke to- 
gether upon most places thereof. 

" Building ... 2. The Castle with the 4 Gatehouses all built of 
freestone hewen and cutt, the walls in many 
places of 15 and 10 foot thicke, some more, some 
lesse, the least fower foot in thicknes square. 

" Roomes .... 4. The Roomes of great State within the same &, 
such as are able to receave his Ma^^ the Queen 
& Prince at one tyme, built with as much uni- 
formity and conveniency as any houses of later 
tyme, and with such stateW sellars all caried 



39S " KENIL W OR Tliy 

upon pillars and architecture of free stone car zed 
and wrought as the like are not within this King- 
dome, and also all other houses for offices aun- 
swerable. 

" Poole 7. There runneth through the . . . grounds by the 

walls of the said Castle a faire Poole conteyning 
1 1 1 acres well stored with fish and fowle which 
at pleasure is to be lett round about the Castle. 

" Compasse . . 9. The Circuit of the Castle, Manors, Parks, and 
Chase lieing round together conteyne at least 19 
or 20 miles in a pleasaunt countrey, the like both 
for strength, state, and pleasure not being within 
the Realme of England." 

This vast and magnificent structure continued entire until during 
the Civil War, when Cromwell allowed it to fall into possession 
of some of the members of his army, who appear to have demolished 
much of it for paltry speculation in the materials. The Base Court 
is now a grass-grown area of more than two acres' extent. Walls, 
once fortified but now broken, sweep from the' left (eastward) 
around to the south. Along the left side are the stables (yet in a 
poor way occupied), very large and long, with sandstone basement, 
and with superstructure of timber and brickwork in the style often 
seen through Cheshire, so picturesque, and, during the latter 
half of the sixteenth century, so popular. Almost in front of the 
btables is Mortimer's Tower and the former access to the Tilt Yard, 
and to the bridge built by the Earl of Leicester for a new approach, 
" that EHzabeth might enter the castle by a path hitherto untrod- 
den, instead of the usual entrance to the northward " already 
described. Through this new approach during the waning " twi- 
light of a summer night (9th July, 1575)," the Queen, in extremest 
contrast to the disowned wife, entered the precincts of Kenilworth 
on her memorable visit. She thus gained her first impression of 
the castle from the most imposing view presented by the main edi- 
fice. This stands towards the west upon slightly rising ground 
At the extreme right (north) are the remains of the gardens. 
About the very centre of the area within the walls, and midway 
from side to side, rises Caesar's Tower, the oldest, and perhaps the 
best preserved, portion of the whole structure, a huge, lofty, square 
mass, with large square turrets projecting at each angle. " Its 



''kenilworth:' 399 

rvalls are in several places no less than sixteen feet thick, and all 
its parts are on the same scale of durabihty." The north side has 
been demolished, and the interior is a hollow wreck. It probably 
resembled in form and size the well-known White Tower of Lon- 
don. Built of squared red sandstone blocks, it has grown grayish, 
while some of its surface is bared and worn and broken, and other 
parts are veiled by mould-tinted lichens and some ivy. Beside this 
mighty Keep was the entrance gateway to the inner court ; but this 
latter, with a narrow range of buildings, in Tudor style, extend- 
ing to the left, has entirely disappeared. Around 'the area of the 
inner court may still be seen, on the right, first, Caesar's Tower, 
and, adjoining it, the slight remains of an extensive suite of kitch- 
ens and offices, over which, in the corner, rises the now shattered, 
but once strongly built and triply vaulted " Mervyn's Tower," 
where Amy Robsart found shelter. Next, on the side of the court 
opposite this approach extended the great Hall, with an existing 
very richly decorated gothic entrance at its foot, — northward and 
to the right of the visitor. This Hall was a stately apartment, 
86 feet long and 45 feet wide, and proportionally high. Its floor 
was stone, and rested upon the arches of a crypt-like room beneath. 
Its walls were smooth, dark-red sandstone, pierced by very lofty, 
deeply recessed, stone-traceried Tudor windows, and by a great 
oriel at the dais, and by large fireplaces, — one about mid-length 
on each side. The roof was one of those open timber works for 
which Enghsh builders have been distinguished, and rested upon 
corbels in the piers between the windows. Both the spandrels 
over the windows and in this roof were traceried. Along the left 
side of the inner court — the southern side — extended an irregu- 
lar suite of state apartments communicating with the dais of the 
Hall at one end, and at the other with an oblong square building 
called Leicester's, because built by him. It faces the Base Court, 
and adjoined the Tudor building that has disappeared, and thus 
formed a somewhat harmonious correspondence with Caesar's 
Tower. 

The writer found this quadrangle of once stately structures per- 
haps the saddest and most suggestive example in England of 
departed domestic greatness, and of the devastation of fanaticism 
and avar'ce. The buildings northward (erected by Old John of 
Gaunt, " time-honored Lancaster," as has been noted) were much 
broken ; and so also was Amy Robsart's tower, — for that it should 



400 " KENIL WOR TH:' 

be called. Visitors can even yet ascend its dilapidated turnpike 
stair, and gain a wide view over the ruins and the country around. 
The Hall was a mere shell, and open to the sky almost from its 
foundations. Amy Robsart there seemed indeed avenged. The 
state apartments were almost chaotic ; merely enough remaining 
of them to give an idea of what they once were. Leicester's build- 
ings were yet almost sixty feet high, with some of the walls square 
and plumb as when erected, although a western wall leaned inward. 
They contained a great staircase and three large rooms on each of 
several floors, all of which latter were of wood and have disap- 
peared, leaving the interior open from base to top. Some of the 
plastering adhered as laid upon the wall itself. The " caps " over 
the internal openings are oak beams, placed as wood is often placed 
in modern buildings. The lofty oriel windows, once stone-mul- 
lioned and transomed, were shattered. The lower parts of the 
exterior had assumed a faded ash-red color : the upper parts were 
grayish, and tinted with dull russet lichens, — the left turret was, 
however, to its very base mottled with mouldy colored lichens. 
The stone is of a more friable quality than that in some of the 
older erections. A vast deal of luxuriant ivy, such as only Old 
England can show, veils and entwines the ruin, and, indeed, as 
elsewhere in it, seems to bind the crumbling walls together. But 
the writer, in his sketch of Scott's story and of this ancient castle, 
must, sooner or later, declare in the words of Master Laneham, " I 
take the case so cleer that I say not az mooch az I moought. Thus 
proface ye with the Preface. And noow to the matter." And so, 
again tempted into use of words of a contemporary narrator, 
George Gascoigne, he recurs to " the Princelye Pleasures at the 
Courte at Kenelwoorth ... as were there deuised, and presented 
by sundry Gentlemen, before the Qvenes Maiestie." 

In the thirtieth chapter of this novel, Scott has magnificently 
described the brilliant entry of Queen Elizabeth into the castle ; 
and, in the next chapter, he has presented another effectively 
pictured scene of her first evening in the great Hall, when, it 
appears, she had become aware of some story about Amy Robsart, 
and made inquiry for her. This elicited from the ready Varney a 
certificate, " from a most learned physician," that demonstrated the 
lady's inability to reach the castle. TressiHan, who was in pres- 
ence, declared this statement was untrue. His impeachment was 
little liked by her Majesty ; and Tressilian, under certain agree- 



" KENIL WOR TU:' 401 

ments with Amy, could not prove it as did future circumstances 
Consequently, like other forward devotees to the right, he expe- 
rienced trouble, and was dismissed the presence. Late in the even- 
ing, the earl was attended by his Mephistopheles, Varney, vho 
cunningly hinted at the possibilities of royal favor and of his 
patron's elevation even to the highest rank in the realm ; an ele- 
vation practicable only after a certain event, not impossible to those 
who dare, — a release from existing matrimonial encumbrance. 
Meanwhile, Wayland Smith had lost the letter for the earl commit- 
ted to him by the countess, and had been expelled the castle by 
Lambourne, who was then a personage of rising importance, and 
who had charge of the portion of the castle where the unhappy 
lady was placed. He even took such advantage of his office as to 
obtain entrance to the room she occupied, and during the next 
morning to insult her so grievously that she fled, she hardly knew 
whither, and took refuge in a grotto in an ornamented garden, 
called the Pleasance, situated below the western front of the castle. 
One can now from the shattered top of her tower see both the 
ruined room where she so sadly was (for we will treat this as her 
true story), and the rude area that was covered by the elaborately 
cultivated and adorned grounds to which she fled, and can also 
survey the now meadowy site of the lake that then spread widely 
around them. 

And one can there recall a scene that has not many equals in 
literature. The womanly, but royal, hearted Queen was walking in 
the garden, attended only by her favorite the earl, and was approach- 
ing a degree of confiding and even tenderness towards him, that she 
hardly had showed to man; when she felt forced to direct that 
their interview should not be prolonged. Dudley left her, and she 
murmured to herself, " Were it possible, were it but possible ! but, 
no, no ; Elizabeth must be the wife and mother of England 
alone ! " And while, in this unwonted feeling, she walked alone, 
she discovered the grotto and in it a distracted woman, — her "hap- 
less rival." Ehciting Amy Robsart's story, the Queen drew her 
forth, carried her to another portion of the gardens, and abruptly 
presented her before the court and the favored earl. " If in the 
midst of the most serene day of summer, when all is light and 
laughing around, a thunderbolt were to fall from the clear blue vault 
of heaven, and rend the earth at the very feet of some careless 
traveller, he could not gaze upon the smouldering chasm, which so 



403 ''kenilworth:' 

unexpectedly yawned before him, with half the astonishment and 
fear which Leicester felt at the sight that so suddenly presented 
itself." And then ensued such a scene as only Scott could design 
and picture, — one of the most vivid that he has created, in which 
the splendid but guilty earl was rescued from threatening ruin, but 
rescued only by the interposition of the evil genius of Varney. 
He protested that Amy was his own insane wife escaped neces- 
sary confinement, and thus obtained an order from the Queen 
by which the unhappy woman was put in charge of Lord Huns- 
don, of the royal Court. And then, within the castle, succeeded 
other wonderfully effective scenes, — one between Amy and her 
husband, in which she refused ever to be even represented to 
be the wife of Varney ; and a second, during which that watchful 
demon of evil and of ambition instilled base counsel into the earl's 
mind, insinuating false charges of his wife's infidelity to him, and 
of her wrong devotion to her former lover, Tressilian ; — rehearsing 
the dangers of the earl's position, — then, the rank and honors 
within his grasp, if only that one unfaithful woman was crushed. 
The whole of these scenes must be read, — they cannot be sketched. 
Leicester yielded to the tempter, and gave his signet ring as author- 
ity for that which should free him from one whom he was wrought 
to feel was a base, ungrateful favorite, encumbering his path, but, 
— alas, for him! — a true-hearted woman, loving him better than 
her own life. The learned physician of the Queen gave, or was 
influenced to give, opinion that she was insane, and her removal 
from the castle was permitted. The catastrophe of the story was 
then rapidly developed. 

Circumstances soon transpired to convince the earl of his worse 
than rash assumption of his wife's guilt. Speedy messengers were 
despatched to countermand the fatal authority he had conferred. 
But a speedier agent was executing it in the lonely recesses of 
Cumnor Hall, whither Amy Robsart had been taken by Varney. 
Lambourne, the first messenger, was shot by him, and then — but 
let the words of the story reconcile us to the ruin and desolation of 
Cumnor Hall, and to the earl's disgrace at Court that ensued his 
too tardy avowal of his marriage : those words only should tell how 
Varney met deserved death ; how horribly old Anthony Foster expi- 
ated his demonstrated guilt, and how ended " The Princeley Pleas- 
ures of Kenilworth." And the shattered ruins of that once splendid 
castle, " the like " of which was " not within the Realme of Eng- 



" WOODSTOCK:' 403 

land," while they show the pomp and romance of chivah-ous and 
feudal life, and the greatness of the olden time, and of the heroic 
age of the great Queen's reign ; while they rise nobly in their 
"proud decay," — will to the hearts of generations, if not in his- 
toric annals, be eloquent with the pathetic story of the love of 
too-confiding Amy Robsart. 



XLII. 

Woodstock." 



Twenty-second Novel of the Series ; Written 1825-26 ; Published June, 1826 ; 
A uthor's age, 55 ; Time of action, 1652-60. 

THE traveller, continuing upon the tour imagined, by departing 
from Kenilworth and the vicinity of Leamington, and by 
going towards London, will find easy and pleasant opportunity to 
visit the remarkable, ancient, collegiate city of Oxford, and, near it, 
Cumnor Hall, already described, and Woodstock, with its park, — 
scene of most of the action of the novel now introduced. Few of 
the " Waverley" stories were enacted in places that have changed 
so completely in aspect as have the places of this ; but an excursion 
to them will take one to as old a park and to as grand a private 
country seat as exist in Europe, — both abounding in great sug- 
gestions ; and the former, particularly, associated with much of the 
high life of earlier periods, and with the curious incidents of this 
work of Scott. 

While little distinct topographical association, connected with 
this work, remains, there is in it more than usual revelation of the 
author's character and circumstances. During the time while it 
was written and published occurred some of the most important 
episodes of his eventful career. The ruinous crash of January, 
1826, came upon him; "the bride" of his "youth" was "laid 
among the ruins of Dryburgh, which " they had " so often visited 
in gayety and pastime ; " his children were being scattered ; the 
great levee of guests that he formerly entertained was no longer 
assembled around him; his town residence, "a house befitting a 



^04 " WOODSTOCK^ 

rkh baronet," was forsaken and marked " To Sell ; " the " Great 
Unknown " became transformed, as he said, into the " Too-well- 
known ; " bodily pains tried him ; and, at a late period of life, there 
was opened to him a future that would have appalled and dispirited 
even strong men. But while the neighborly " community of Edin- 
burgh," and the whole reading world also, were electrified by the 
simultaneous announcement of his pecuniary disaster, of his domes- 
tic trouble, and of his great title to the undivided authorship of 
those immortal creations that had been so thickly coming from a 
source not known to the world, — while all this surprise and change 
was fresh, his great popularity was not only unabated, but rather 
increased. " The universal feeling was (wrote Lockhart) much 
what the late amiable and accomplished Earl of Dudley expressed 
to Mr. Morritt when these news reached them at Brighton : ' Scott 
ruined ! ' said he : ' the author of " Waverley " ruined-! Good God ! 
let every man to whom he has given months of delight give him a 
sixpence, and he will rise to-morrow morning richer than Roths- 
child ! ' " 

Although this novel was sometime contracted for before 1826, 
it was rapidly written at last. In his diary, Scott entered under 
date of April 3d of that year : " I have the extraordinary and grati- 
fying news that ' Woodstock ' is sold for ^8,228, — all ready money, 
— a matchless sale for less than three months' work. . . . Four or 
five years of leisure and industry would, with such success, amply 
replace my losses." " It is no wonder (again wrote Lockhart) that 
the book, which it was known he had been writing during this 
crisis of distress, should have been expected with solicitude. Shall 
we find him, asked thousands, to have been master truly of his 
genius in the moment of this ordeal 1 Shall we trace any thing of 
his own experiences in the construction of his imaginary person- 
ages and events .? " In that book, thus written, expected, and 
received, are "not a few passages that carried deep meaning foi 
such of Scott's own friends as were acquainted with " those domes- 
tic affairs nearest his heart. In the person and character of Alice 
Lee, ever attentive to her aged father, was perceived illustration of 
"the consolation afforded him by the dutiful devotion of his daugh- 
ter Anne " during his own trials and pains. " In several mottoes, 
and other scraps of verse, the curious reader will find similar traces 
of the facts and feehngs recorded in the author's diary." There is 
a portraiture also in this work, humble but yet indicative of the 



''WOODSTOCK." 405 

author's likings, — "the elaborate and affectionate portraiture of 
old Maida," his favorite dog (whose statue is in the courtyard at 
Abbotsford), here represented " under the name of Bevis." 

The Introduction to Woodstock, written in 1832, states that 
" the busy period of the great Civil War was one in which the 
character and genius of different parties were most brilliantly dis- 
played ; and, accordingly, the incidents which took place on either 
side were of a striking and extraordinary character, and afforded 
ample foundation for fictitious composition." While " Peveril of 
the Peak " refers to the closing of that period, this story refers to 
the central and most animated portion. It was suggested by " some 
wonderful adventures which happened at Woodstock in the year 
16^9/ and which are described in the " British Magazine " for 
April, 1747, and in'Wm. Hone's "Every-Day Book" (Vol. II. 
c. 582), in an article entitled — 

" The Genuine History 

of the 

Good Devil of Woodstock 

*' Famous in the world in the year 1649 
and never accounted for, or at all under- 
stood to this time." 

Since the time referred to, however, the doings of this " Good 
Devil" have been both "understood" and fully explained. This 
once mysterious being was no other than a zealous loyalist who 
obtained service with three "honorable commissioners" for survey- 
ing the king's confiscated demesnes, appointed by Parliament to 
value them for sale. His name was "Joseph Collins, commonly 
called Funny Joe," and also the "Just Devil," — a man who, hke 
many persons in the neighborhood, regarded with great disfavor a 
proposed destruction of the ancient royal hunting-seat, and who 
constituted himself a sort of Nemesis, practising in such a manner 
as to sorely terrify and finally to put to flight the commissioners, 
By means of secret passages within the manor-house, and the 
assistance of confederate servants, he made those not unsupersti- 
tious worthies fancy themselves really beset by the great Adversary. 
Candles were strangely extinguished at certain hours. Tremendous 
explosions occurred where no man was. Billets of wood, trenchers, 
broken glass, and buckets of water were dashed about the chambers 
by night. The beds arose and dropped mysteriously with sore dis- 
comfort to sleepers ; and, finally, one fell catastrophe seemed to 



4.06 " WOODSTOCK:^ 

justify their dread at this Just Spirit. The trio bore a desire for 
spoils similar to that characterizing their employers, and had deter- 
mined upon peculation and spohation for their own private accounts. 
Apparently having correct opinions about each other's honesty, 
they had, in order to prevent loss among themselves, made a signed 
compact for due distribution of any accruing gains. This document 
was hidden in a flower-pot. But the Just Devil, whose operations 
had caused them so much tribulation, at last induced them to assem- 
ble certain grave and virtuous men to consider the phenomena 
that had occurred. While these and other witnesses were present, 
the retributive agent, who had gotten them into a finely effective 
dramatic position, caused certain fireworks to explode the flower- 
pot, and thus throw the scandalous compact among those who 
would be variously and particularly distressed by it. 

The story itself opens in the parish church at the old town of 
Woodstock, " on a morning in the end of September, or the begin- 
ning of October, in the year 1652, being a day appointed for a 
solemn thanksgiving for the decisive victory at Worcester." A 
curiously assorted audience of dissenters had assembled in the then 
half-dismantled edifice, where a Presbyterian, the Rev. Nehemiah 
Holdenough, attempted to hold forth, but was served as his sect 
had served its liturgical predecessors in that place. He was rudely 
expelled by a representative of a newer schism, an Independent, 
who preached vehemently to his own heart's content. The edifice in 
which was this opening scene has been much altered ; and although 
there are fragments of ancient workmanship apparent about it, its 
general appearance dates only from a "renovation effected during 
the latter part of the last century." From this church attention is 
led to the royal lodge, or manor-house, in the great park, perhaps 
half a mile distant. On the way, the story introduces, in a wood- 
land, the stout-hearted, gray-bearded keeper. Sir Henry Lee, of 
Ditchley, head ranger, and his daughter Alice. To them appeared 
a soldier-hke person, Joseph Tomkins, Cromwell's secret agent, 
who presented to the knight a warrant of parliament for surrender 
to it of the lodge. This presentation ehcited a fight, in which the 
fiery old cavalier, however, did not have the better, but that resulted 
in his agreement to the surrender. 

The lodge, now destroyed from its very foundations, stood in 
Woodstock Park, — now called Blenheim Park, — on the western 
side of a lake or river near where that is crossed by a grand stone 



" WOODSTOCK:' 407 

bridge, over which passes the avenue from Woodstock town to 
Blenheim Palace. It occupied the brow of a low hill, — a " site . . . 
now covered with verdant sward, and browsed by deer," and was 
" a magnificent and extensive structure, . . . the residence of several 
. . . monarchs, from the time of Henry I. to Charles I. It was not 
entirely destroyed until 1723, . . . when two sycamore-trees were 
planted to mark its site." Connected thus with much that is his- 
toric and romantic, it is readily remembered for its associations 
with King Henry II. and Rosamond de Clifford, for whom he con- 
structed the celebrated " Bower," either among the recesses of the 
pleasure grounds, or among the intricacies of the manor-house. 
The gardens then probably " consisted chiefly of the Topiary work, 
so usual with the fanciful gardeners of that era ; " and among these, 
some writers think, was that " Labyrinth, so artfully contrived that 
no stranger could possibly unthread its mazes," in which the royal 
favorite "was hidden from the jealous queen," and in which she 
was finally discovered and killed by " that dreaded personage." We 
are told, " that some of the entrenchments thrown up during the 
civil war in the time of Charles are still visible on the brow of 
the hill [already mentioned] above Queen Pool ; and the parterres 
and knots of the ancient gardens are distinctly to be traced on the 
lawn in front of Churchill's Pillar." Scott places the labyrinth 
within the walls of the house itself. This, Scott wrote, was, at the 
time of his story, a "gothic building, irregularly constructed, and 
at different times," "comprehending a nest of Httle courts, sur- 
rounded by buildings which corresponded with each other, some- 
times within doors, sometimes by crossing the courts, and frequently 
in both ways. . . . The varied and multiphed fronts of this irregular 
building . . . contained specimens of every style which existed, from 
the pure Norman of Henry of Anjou, down to the composite, half 
gothic, half classical architecture of Elizabeth and her successor." 
The secret passages that are so important in the mysterious 
machinery of this novel, and of the " Just Devil's " operations, must 
all now be imagined. Entrance was had to them, it has been said, 
through the usual movable panels, and through a framed portrait, 
moving like a turnstile, above one of the chimney-pieces. They 
also were, according to Scott, traditionally reported to have been 
connected with " the oldest part of the structure, . . . named . . . 
Fair Rosamond's Tower," solid below, and having a room at its 
lofty top, " accessible only by a sort of small drawbridge " from a 



4o8 " WOODSTOCK:' 

corresponding but a little, lower tower, "containing only a winding 
staircase, called in Woodstock Love's Ladder ; because, it is said, 
that by ascending this staircase to the top of the tower, and then 
making use of the drawbridge, Henry obtained access to the cham- 
ber of his paramour," But as precision in these important details 
is now difficult, one may be permitted to read Sir Walter's story 
without becoming perplexed among any such mazes. We can thus 
experience, in the interest of that story, and the picturesque tribu- 
lations of Cavahers and Loyalists during the times it represents, 
how "rich the treasure " of our entertainment, and how "sweet the 
pleasure " to us, after their pain. As before noted, the ancient 
and curious house that has so entirely disappeared, and that has 
just been sketched, is the chief scene of the story. A brief visit, 
by one of the minor characters, to Cromwell, at Windsor Castle, 
is described ; but the incident does not associate that vast pile 
sufficiently with this work to render an account of it necessary 
here The visit, hovv^ever, introduced a short scene that is one of 
Scott s most dramatic and effective, when, in an apartment of the 
Castle, in which were many pictures turned towards the walls, 
Cromwell, while wishing to describe another, exposed to full view, 
accidentally, the portrait of the sovereign he had done so much 
towards destroying. 

The general story shows the three commissioners at Woodstock, 
and their trials and machinations. It shows the difficulties of love 
between young Parliamentarian and fair Cavaher youth and worth. 
It shows the plotting Royahst and the watchful Roundhead. It 
shows, also, at the ancient royal lodge, the vicissitudes and extreme 
risks of a fugitive King, in episodes that have, however, troubled 
perhaps several literal readers, one of whom observes that Charles 
II., during his wanderings after the battle of Worcester, "never 
once visited Woodstock." Notwithstanding any such fact, the 
story presents correct portraiture of the " merry monarch " and of 
his great opponent, "the Lord General," who appear prominent 
and hfe-like, as also does that more lovable person, alluded to near 
the beginning of this chapter, — Ahce Lee. " Alice Lee, so sweet, 
so gentle, so condescending in thy loveliness ; ... no creature wert 
thou of an idle romancer's imagination ; no being fantastically 
bedizened with inconsistent perfections ; thy merits made me love 
thee well ; and for thy faults, so well did they show amid thy good 
quahties, that I think they made me love thee better." And this 



" WOODSTOCK/' 409 

Alice Lee, ever attending her aged father, revealed in the romance 
Anne Scott in real life watching over her greater father during 
his greater trials. To him — to the eye and thought of love — she 
seemed to be, as he described, "a slight and sylph-like form, with 
a person so delicately made, and so beautiful in countenance, that 
it seemed the earth on which she walked was too grossly massive 
a support for a creature so aerial." 

And while we wander around the ancient site where this story 
was enacted, and while we recall its former glories and romance, 
the incidents of the novel, and the history of the very composition 
itself, we are pleasantly led among the venerable oaks, and over 
the green turf of the great Park, through scenery like that beheld 
by Alice Lee and those about her, to the very woodlands and 
lawns indeed, over which not only she, but also many a monarch, 
coursed ; where Chaucer hved and wrote and enjoyed during b',s 
later life ; where indeed no small history of ages of Englan /'s 
domestic character is suggested. And travellers will, of course, so 
far as able, examine the grand structure that now renders this vast 
domain famous — and that is unsurpassed by any private country- 
seat in Europe — in the world. Upon a lofty Doric pillar, so 
prominent that no visitor can fail to see it, may be read Lord 
Bolingbroke's terse inscription that tells the modern glory of 
Woodstock in these words : — 

"The Castle of BLENHEIM was founded by Queen ANNE, 

In the fourth year of her Reign, 

In the Year of the Christian ^Era 

One Thousand Seven Hundred and Five. 

A Monument designed to perpetuate the Memory of the 

Signal Victory 

Obtained over the Fretich and Bavarians, 

Near the Village of BLENHEIM, 

On the Banks of the Danube, 

By JOHN Duke of MARLBOROUGH, 

The Hero not only of his Nation, but of his Age," &c. 

This former royal manor, after experiencing many vicissitudes, 
was granted as above expressed ; " and half a million of money 
[sterling] was voted by the House of Commons for the completion 
of the" palatial "castle," "which took place in 1715, one year after 
the death of the Queen," As is well known. Sir John Vanbnigh, 
architect, here raised a massively picturesque and monumental 
House, that " consists of an oblong grand centre edifice, connected 
by colonnades to two projecting quadrangular wings, which, on the 



410 ''THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL:' 

principal front, form the three sides of a great court, enclosed by iron 
palisades, the whole building being in extreme length 850 feet, and 
covering seven acres of ground," — about as much as Kenilworth 
Castle. In the centre is the great Hall, 67 feet high ; and beyond 
it, to the right and left, an imposing suite of State Apartments, 
nearly 350 feet in length, filled with fine paintings, constituting one 
of the noblest galleries in Britain. At right angles, extending 183 
feet, is the Library, " said to be one of the grandest rooms in 
Europe," containing the Sunderland collection of books, now num- 
bering nearly 20,000, and among the most valuable of private lib- 
raries. Many of these books are of extreme rarity. Curiously, 
perhaps the two finest private libraries, certainly, in Britain, — this 
and the Earl of Spencer's at Althorp, — were both founded and 
developed by members of the same family, that of Spencer. A book 
is needed for description of Blenheim, however ; and as these 
sketches can only give outlines, it may but be added that around 
this vast and sumptuous residence are correspondingly extensive 
and beautiful gardens. " The princely district enclosed by walls, 
as a demesne-appendage to the castle, comprises about two thousand 
seven hundred acres. The circumference is said to be upwards of 
twelve miles." This tract abounds in artificial decorations and in 
exquisite sylvan scenery. The whole domain is, as inscribed, an 
" Illustrious Monument of Marlborough's Glory and of Britain's 
Gratitude." 



XLIII. 

"The Fortunes of Nigel," and "Scott's London." 

Fifteenth Novel of the Series; Written x%2\-22'. Published May>P, 1822; Author's 
age, 51 ; Titne of action, 1620. 

'T^RAVELLERS, after exploring the wonders of Blenheim, and 
-■- the venerable, half-monastic, gothic quadrangles, the fair and 
quiet gardens, and the stately streets of Oxford, will naturally be 
attracted to the great metropolis. " Scott's London " is rather more 
visible than " Shakspeare's London," yet both are old-world places 
rapidly passing away in the busy hfe and change of the largest and 



''THE FORTUNES OF NIGELy 411 

aiost powerful of all cities. The scenes of the novel now introduced 
are almost entirely laid in that old London of James I.'s time, that has 
nearly disappeared. The work itself was begun during the autumn of 
182 1, and grew from a series of " Private Letters," written by Scott 
to amuse leisure hours, and " supposed to have been discovered in 
the repositories of a Noble EngHsh Family." They give " a picture 
of manners in town and country during the early part of the reign 
of James L" Seventy-two pages of these had been printed, when 
some of his friends assured him " that, however clever his imitation 
of the epistolary style of the period in question, he was throwing 
away in these letters the materials of as good a romance as he had 
ever penned." The result was, that Scott discontinued the letters, 
and composed this novel. It was received with great favor, espe- 
cially in London, where, wrote Constable the publisher, the first 
consignment of the new work was received from Edinburgh by the 
smack " Ocean," that " arrived at the wharf on Sunday. The bales 
[of books] were got out by one on Monday morning, and before 
half-past ten o'clock 7000 copies had been dispersed from 90 Cheap- 
side," "So keenly were the people devouring" it, he added, "that 
I actually saw them reading it in the streets as they passed along." 
" Nigel was," wrote Lockhart, " considered as ranking in the first 
class of Scott's romances. Indeed, as a historical portraiture, his 
of James I. stands forth pre-eminent, and almost alone ; nor, per- 
haps, in reperusing these novels deliberately as a series, does any 
one of them leave so complete an impression as the picture of an 
age. It is, in fact, the best commentary on the old English drama, 
— hardly a single picturesque point of manners touched by Ben 
Jonson and his contemporaries but has been dovetailed into this 
story, and all . . . easily and naturally." " The story is of a very 
simple structure, and may soon be told," wrote Jeffrey ; and his 
sketch may be, permissively, borrowed or quoted. 

" Lord Glenvarloch, a young Scottish nobleman, whose fortunes 
had been ruined by his father's profusion, and chiefly by large loans 
to the Crown, comes to London about the middle of James's reign, 
to try what part of this debt may be recovered from the justice of 
his now opulent sovereign. From want of patronage and experi- 
ence, he is unsuccessful in his first apphcation ; and is about to 
withdraw in despair, when his serving-man, Richard Moniplies, 
falhng accidentally in the way of George Heriot, the favorite jeweller 
and occasional banker of the King, that benevolent person ... to 



it 1 3 ''THE FORTUNES OF NlGELr 

whom . . . Edinburgh is indebted for the most flourishing and best 
conducted of her founded schools or charities, is pleased to take an 
interest in his aifairs, and not only represents his case in a favorable 
way to the Sovereign, but is the means of introducing him to 
another nobleman, with whose son, Lord Dalgarno, he speedily 
forms a rather inauspicious intimacy. By this youth he is initiated 
into all the gayeties of the town ; of which, as well as of the manners 
and bearing of the men of fashion of the time, a very lively picture 
is drawn. Among other things, he is encouraged to try his fortune at 
play ; but, being poor and prudent, he plays but for small sums, and, 
rather unhandsomely we must own, makes it a practice to come 
away after a moderate winning. On this account he is slighted by 
Lord Dalgarno and his more adventurous associates ; and having 
learned that they talked contemptuously of him, and that Lord D. 
had prejudiced the King and the Prince against him, he challenges 
him for his perfidy in the Park, and actually draws on him, in the 
precincts of the royal abode. This was, in those days, a very seri- 
ous offence ; and, to avoid its immediate consequences, he is advised 
to take refuge in Whitefriars, then known by the cant name of 
Alsatia, and understood to possess the privileges of a sanctuary 
against ordinary arrests. Apropos of this retirement, we have a 
very striking and animated picture of the bulhes and bankrupts, 
and swindlers and petty felons, by whom this city of refuge was 
chiefly inhabited, — and among whom the young Lord has the good 
luck to witness a murder, committed on the person of his miserly 
host. He then bethinks himself of repairing to Greenwich, where 
the court was, throwing himself upon the clemency of the King, 
and insisting on being confronted with his accusers ; but happening 
unfortunately to meet with his Majesty in a retired part of the Park, 
to which he had pursued the stag, ahead of all his attendants, his 
sudden appearance so startles and alarms that pacific monarch, that 
he accuses him of a treasonable design on his life, and has him 
committed to the Tower, under that weighty accusation. In the 
mean time, however, a certain Margaret Ramsey, a daughter of the 
celebrated watchmaker of that name, who had privately fallen in 
love with him at the table of George Heriot, her god-father, and 
had, ever since, kept watch over his proceedings, and aided him in 
his difficulties by various stratagems and suggestions, had repaired 
to Greenwich in male attire, with the romantic design of interesting 
and undeceiving the King with regard to him. By a lucky accident, 



''THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL:' 413 

she does obtain an opportunity of making her statement to James ; 
who, in order to put her veracity to the test, sends her, disguised as 
she was, to Glenvarloch's prison in the Tower, and also looses upon 
him in the same place first his faithful Heriot, and afterwards a sar- 
castic courtier, while he himself plays the eavesdropper to their con- 
versation, from an adjoining apartment constructed for that purpose. 
The result of this Dionysian experiment is, to satisfy the sagacious 
monarch both of the innocence of his young countryman, and the 
malignity of his accusers ; who are speedily brought to shame by 
his acquittal and admittance to favor. 

" There is an underplot of a more extravagant and less happy 
structure, about a sad and mysterious lady who inhabits an inacces- 
sible apartment in Heriot's house, and turns out to be the deserted 
wife of Lord Dalgarno, and a near relation of Lord Glenvarloch. 
The former is compelled by the King to acknowledge her, very 
much against his will ; though he is considerably comforted when 
he finds that, by this alliance, he acquires right to an ancient mort- 
gage over the lands of the latter, which nothing but immediate pay- 
ment of a large sum can prevent him from foreclosing. This is 
accomplished by the new-raised credit and consequential agency of 
Richie Moniplies, though not without a scene of pettifogging diffi- 
culties. The conclusion is something tragical and sudden. Lord 
Dalgarno, travelling to Scotland with the redemption-money in a 
portmanteau, challenges Glenvarloch to meet and fight him, one 
stage from town ; and, while he is waiting on the Common, is himself 
shot dead by one of the Alsatian bulHes, who had heard of the 
precious cargo with which he was making the journey. His antag- 
onist comes up soon enough to revenge him ; and, soon after, is 
married to Miss Ramsey, for whom the King finds a suitable pedi- 
gree, and at whose marriage-dinner he condescends to preside ; 
while Richard Moniplies marries the heroic daughter of the Alsatian 
miser, and is knighted in a very characteristic manner by the good- 
natured monarch." 

The localities described in this story, like those of London repre- 
sented in " Peveril of ihe Peak " (page 376), have assumed appear- 
ances so different from those they had in the seventeenth century, 
that they do not readily suggest the incidents of either story. 
Almost every visitor to London will, however, see, and with interest, 
the place in which the opening, and indeed more than one, scene in 
the " Fortunes of Nigel " is said to have been enacted, — the vicinity 



414 ''THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL:' 

of Temple Bar. Although the gateway, now removed, was built 
nearl}^ fifty years after the date of the action represented in the novel, 
there are, near its site, shops that are much older, of which a curious 
edifice. No. 17 Fleet Street, is an example. An inscription on the 
front stated, recently, that this was "formerly the Palace of Henry 
VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey," — probably, however, of Prince 
Henry, eldest son of James I. In this old avenue of the city itself. 
Fleet Street, now resounding with "streaming London's central 
roar," and in a region abounding with associations memorial of 
great men, is shown the first scene of the novel, in which appear 
the apprentices walking before the shops of their respective mas- 
ters, and calling to travellers " what d'ye lack 'i what d'ye lack ? 
accompanied with the appropriate recommendations of the articles 
in which they dealt." A serving-man to Lord Nigel OHfaunt of 
Glenvarloch, Richard Moniplies, who had been hurt, was brought 
here, and relieved by the king's goldsmith. He then went to 
lodgings near Paul's Wharf, where his lord was living in disguise. 
This place is on the north bank of the Thames, at a short distance 
below old Blackfriars' Bridge, and is not, at present, a very attractive 
retreat. The action of the story afterwards shifts to other parts of 
the city, and among them to " Alsatia," or Whitefriars, whither Lord 
Nigel fled after his quarrel with the dissolute Lord Dalgarno. That 
once notorious district, conspicuous in the story, can be explored 
during a visit to Temple Bar, and to its vicinity, — one uncom- 
monly crowded with reminiscences of celebrated men and events. 
" Alsatia " is, or rather was, between Fleet Street and the river, 
and was formerly occupied by a Carmelite Convent of White Friars, 
the origin of its name. It " long possessed," says Mr. Timbs, "the 
privileges of sanctuary, which were confirmed by charter of James I. 
in 1608 ; hence it became [as narrated in the story] the asylum of 
characterless debtors, cheats, and gamblers, here protected from 
arrest." After it had been a resort of many generations of outcasts, 
Wilham III. changed the immunities granted in 1608, and since 
1697 "sanctuaries" of its class have been scarce and insecure to 
criminals in the metropolis. Shadwell's play, " The Squire of 
Alsatia," gives one of the earlier representations of the district, that 
now presents very little of the aspect it bore during the reigns of 
the Stuarts. 

The vicinity of Temple Bar abounds in associations with social 
and personal history, to a degree rivalled by few districts, even iu 



'' THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL:' 415 

London, and might suggest a long and varied chapter relating to 
English life and literature. While it is a remarkably appropriate 
locality for a shop in a romance, — like that of David Ramsey in 
this novel, — it is a haunt of past realities as interesting as 
fiction ; and another example of the attractive places, not connected 
with Scott or his works, to which this tour almost necessarily leads. 
North and west of the Bar we may sometime see the completed 
extensive Law Courts. In front of it, during the reign of Charles 
II., the Pope was burned in effigy on the seventeenth of November. 
With the Bar itself is connected far too much history to be sketched 
here. At the beginning of Fleet Street on the right, the south 
side, is Child's Banking House, one of the oldest in London, the 
back files and books of which are said to have been kept in a second 
story of the Bar. The bank occupies the site of the Devil Tavern, 
demolished in 1787, the sign of which was " St. Dunstan pulling 
the Devil's nose." There Ben Jonson met a club, and drew up his 
" Leges conviviales : " there Addison and Swift and Dr. Johnson 
visited, and there, indeed, was "the resort of literary people till the 
year 1750." Opposite this tavern was the Cock, "famous for 
stout." Old, oddly-named public houses, — like "Dick's," "The 
Horn," " The Rainbow," — were numerous in this street, and noted 
for the company that met in them. The shops of famous book- 
makers and dealers were even more numerous. The successor of 
Caxton, Wynkyn de Worde, printed (probably from 1501 to 1534) 
"in the flete strete in the sygne of the sonne." Pynson, Rastall, 
Jaggard, and other celebrated printers, labored in the same " strete," 
and Bernard Lintot there sold books. Explorers who go through 
Fleet Street, eastward from the Bar, may find on the north side 
Shire Lane, dingy and narrow, where Sir Charles Sedley the poet 
was born ; where lived Ashmole, the antiquary (quoted page 387), 
and " Mr. Bickerstafif," " The Tatler ; " where the Tatler met his 
club at " The Rainbow ; " and where was the house of Christopher 
Katt, in which originated the Kit-Kat Club, composed of thirty-nine 
zealous Protestant noblemen and gentlemen, — "the patriots," said 
Walpole, " that saved Britain" during the poHtical changes after the 
dethronement of the Stuarts. Parallel to Shire is Chancery Lane, 
" the greatest legal thoroughfare in London," where lived Lord 
William Russell, where Cowley the poet was born, and where Izaak 
Walton kept a shop. On the same side of Fleet Street, at a little 
distance bevond, is St. Dunstan's Church, a orothic edifice, " three 



4l6 ''THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL^ 

houses eastward" of which "the Great Fire of 1666 stopped." 
Opposite the lanes and the church just mentioned are the 
entrances to the Temple, — one beneath No. 17 (mentioned on page 
414), "by a gateway built 5th James I.," to the Inner Temple ; and 
another of brick and stone, built by Wren, to the Middle Temple. 
In the former is the house where Pope and Warburton first met, and 
"at No. I lived Dr. Johnson from 1760 to 1765 ; the door-case is 
inscribed ' Dr. Johnson's staircase.' " At the foot of a lane within 
this entrance is the magnificent doorway of the Temple Church 
(mentioned in " Ivanhoe," page 360). It is difficult to help think- 
ing, more than is possible while making this sketch, about the 
beauty or the quaintness of this church, or of the Libraries and 
Halls of The Temple, and of their interesting personal associations 
with Knights of the Temple and of St. John, with statesmen, and 
with poets, dramatists, and other authors, whose numerous memories 
invest the place. Every one who reads can find here the haunt of 
a friend. 

On the same side of Fleet Street, farther east, is Mitre Court, 
with the Mitre Tavern, a favorite resort of Goldsmith, Dr. Johnson, 
and Boswell, where the Tour to the Hebrides was planned, and 
where the Royal Society Club dined. This society, from 1710 to 
1782, held its more scientific meetings in Crane Court, on the 
opposite side of Fleet Street, during many of these years, under the 
presidency of Sir Isaac Newton. Just beyond the latter court is Bolt 
Court, where at No. 8 Dr. Johnson "lived from 1776 till his death 
in 1784." In the same court Cobbett produced some of his political 
works. Farther east, and also on the north side of the street, is 
Fetter Lane, noted as the place of residence of the revolutionary 
leather-seller, " Praise-God-Barebones," and his brother, whose 
long compound name — a specimen of the impious slang of his 
party — was popularly and, it is probable, truthfully contracted to 
" Damned Barebones." Near the house of these worthies was, 
more recently, that of Mrs. Brownrigg, who brutally murdered her 
apprentice. Parallel to Fetter, is Shoe Lane, " a narrow and dirty 
avenue leading to Holborn Hill," that, at the time of Nigel, crossed 
a half rural district. Near it, Sir Richard Lovelace, the cavalier 
poet, described to have been " the most amiable and beautiful per- 
son that eyes ever beheld," died in poverty and misery during 1658. 
In 1749, another poet, Richard Boyce, died near here, wretchedly 
poor ; and at the upper end, in the same sad condition, that marvel- 



^ 



•^. 




"-\/ 




TJOiT of iES'Ci.AlSB and of WAI*BS , 



"^ SCOTT S LONDON:' 417 

lous boy of Bristol, Thomas Chatterton, died and was buried. On 
the south side of Fleet Street, between the two lanes, is Bouverie 
Street, leading to "Alsatia;" and, a Httle east of this, Salisbury 
Square, where Richardson wrote " Pamela," and received distin- 
guished visitors. At No. 76 Fleet Street he printed his own 
novels. 

And this district, crowded with memories of those who although 
dead yet live, is only a single small portion of this wonderful old 
London ! 

Scenes both of the " Fortunes of Nigel" and of " Peveril of the 
Peak " are laid in the Tower of London, but they do not render that 
famous place a very prominent object in the stories, or in the lands 
of Scott. Visitors to the Beauchamp Tower (a portion of the great 
fortress) can fancy it to have been the prison of the Peverils or of 
Lord Nigel. LocaHties in and near London associated with " The 
Heart of Mid- Lothian " are mentioned on page 273 ; and others, 
with " Kenilworth," on page 394. 

SCOTT'S LONDON, or most of it, is west of Temple Bar. A 
walk in that direction, from the district already described, along the 
Strand, or the new Thames Embankment and Whitehall, may, in 
an hour or two, enable an explorer to see nearly all the metropolitan 
localities associated with his works, chiefly with " Peveril of the 
Peak " and " The Fortunes of Nigel." The places and objects (men- 
tioned on page 376) once scenes of portions of the action of the 
former, could hardly be recognized now by the actors. The Savoy, 
visited by Julian Peveril, was a large embattled structure between the 
Strand and the river, west of Waterloo Bridge. At the time of the 
story it was ruinous ; now, only its Perpendicular chapel, more than 
once restored, remains. Farther west, by the embankment, and 
formerly close to the river, is Inigo Jones's water-gate, the only 
vestige of York House, the residence of the Duke of Bucking- 
ham, whose character Dryden tersely and severely described, whose 
position was brilliant during the reign of Charles IL, and whose 
portrait by Scott in " Peveril of the Peak " is a masterpiece. At 
Charing Cross was Northumberland House, also there mentioned, 
and recently a grand example of the town mansions of the great 
noblemen during the seventeenth century. Whitehall and the Ban- 
queting House, both now well known and stately, are entirely changed 
from the condition they presented to some of Scott's characters. 



4-18 ''SCOTTS LONDON:' 

The same remark applies to Westminster, — except to its Abbey- 
church. This edifice, surpassed in interest by no other on earth, 
has, however, scarcely an association with Scott or with his crea- 
tions, except that a few of the persons whom he has represented are 
supposed to have seen it as we see it. North-west of the Abbey is 
St. James Park, now a grand and beautiful garden, with a great 
avenue and imposing terraces. In the seventeenth century "it was 
little more than a nursery for deer," but in it appeared some of the 
persons highest in rank in " The Fortunes of Nigel." In it Lord 
Nigel drew his sword upon Lord Dalgarno, and thence fled to 
" Alsatia." (In Greenwich Park, it may be added, he encountered 
King James and the Duke of Buckingham, who bore the royal 
favor, and the title "Steenie" that it conferred.) In St. James 
Park Fenella led Julian Peveril to the presence of Charles the 
Second. 

The places in London rendered interesting by personal associa- 
tions with Scott are in the north-western quarter of the city. On 
this side of St. James Park stood Carlton House, where he dined, 
more than once, " merrily " with the Prince Regent. In the same 
direction, and adjoining this park, is the Green Park, broad and 
grassy, bounded on the north by Piccadilly, on the corner of which 
and the west side of Whitehorse Street, was a "bay-fronted house," 
commanding " a fine open prospect " over the latter. This was the 
home of M. Charles Dumergue, a superior man, " surgeon dentist 
to the royal family," and an intimate friend of Lady Scott's family. 
This continued to be Sir Walter's established headquarters during 
his visits in London from 1803 (when he was in town, accompanied 
by his wife) until one of his own children — his eldest daughter, 
Mrs. Lockhart ^— was established in the city, at No. 24 Sussex 
Place, on the south-west side of Regent's Park, — an area of four 
hundred acres newly laid out in his time, and then, as now, a 
charming place. On the 17th October, 1826, an entry in his jour- 
nal is recorded at " 25 Pall-Mall." During his last visit to London, 
after his return for the last time from the Continent, he was estab- 
lished at the St. James Hotel, Jermyn Street, yet standing, the 
writer thinks, No. jG. Sir Walter reached it " about six o'clock on 
the evening of Wednesday, the 13th June," 1832. He had arrived 
so unexpectedly that it was apprehended that his daughter might 
not be prepared to receive his party at her house, and consequently, 
apartments were taken at this. Here, in a second story back room, 



^'scorrs London:' 419 

he lay insensible most of the time until the " calm, clear afternoon 
of the 7th of July," when he was removed to the steamer that con- 
veyed him towards the home he longed once more to see. And 
thus from the great metropolis he departed, while, " surrounded by 
those nearest to him, he alone was unconscious of the cause or the 
depth of their grief, and while yet alive seemed to be carried to his 
grave." 

Scott's visits to London began early in his life. The first was in 
his fourth year, while on the way from Scotland to Bath in search 
of health. He then "made a short stay, and saw some of the com- 
mon shows exhibited to strangers," he wrote in his autobiography. 
" When, twenty-five years afterwards," he again wrote, " I visited 
the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey, I was astonished to 
find how accurate my recollections of these celebrated places of 
visitation proved to be, and I have ever since trusted more implic- 
itly to my juvenile reminiscences." The latter visit was in March, 
1799, when he was accompanied by Mrs. Scott, and was introduced 
into "some literary and fashionable society, with which he was 
much amused." " His great anxiety was," however, " to examine 
the antiquities of the Tower and Westminster Abbey, and to make 
some researches among the MSS. of the British Museum." In 
1803, as already mentioned, he was in town, and again in 1806, when 
" he was tasting for the first time the full cup of fashionable blan- 
dishment as a London Lion." In 1809 (Mr. Lockhart continued to 
narrate) " the homage paid him would have turned the head of any 
less gifted man of eminence. It neither altered his opinions, nor 
produced the affectation of despising it ; on the contrary, he received 
it, cultivated it, and repaid it in its own coin." In March, 1815, he 
again visited London with Mrs. Scott. " Six years had elapsed 
since his last appearance there, and brilliant as his reception had 
then been, it was still more so on the present occasion." He was 
the poet of the ages of Chivalry and Romance, and the then sup- 
posed "author of Waverley." During the spring of 1820 he was 
once more at M. Dumergue's house. His portrait was then painted 
by Sir Thomas Lawrence, and sculptured by Francis Chantrey. 
In April of the same year his Baronetcy was gazetted, "and was 
conferred on him, not in consequence of any Ministerial suggestion, 
but by the king [George IV.] personally, and of his own unsolicited 
motion ; and when the poet kissed his hand, he said to him, " I 
shall always reflect with pleasure on Sir Walter Scott's having been 



<j.20 ''SCOTTS LONDON:' 

the first creation of my reign." In January, 1821, Scott visited 
London, chiefly for business ; and during the next July, for attend- 
ance at the coronation of George IV., one of the most magnificent 
pageants ever witnessed in Britain. Scott gave a briUiant descrip- 
tion of it. In the autumn of 1826 and in the spring of 1828 he spent 
considerable time in and around the city, engaged with business, 
sight-seeing, and society. The last visit when he could attempt 
any of his usual activity was in the autumn of 1831. His diary 
bears the statement : " We arrived in London after a long journey ; 
the weakness of my limbs palpably increasing." Yet during this 
journey, wrote Mr, Lockhart, "notwithstanding all his infirmities, 
he could not pass any object to which he had ever attached special 
interest, without getting out of the carriage to revisit it." Compari- 
son between the humble Hfe, or the abject misery, of literary men 
who lived near Fleet Street, and Scott's reception in the highest 
places, and brilliant and honored position in all descriptions of the 
best and most distinguished society, and his final departure from 
the metropolis attended by every service of affection, shows that 
merit may not be without earthly reward, and genial and noble 
character and fascinating genius and its works may, in life, receive 
the respect and admiration that true regard would confer, and 
attain some experience of the perennial existence of posthumous 
love and fame. 



''QUENTIN DUE ward:' 42 1 

XLIV. 

"QUENTIN DURWARD." 

Seventeenth Novel 0/ the Series ; IVritten 12,22-22 ; Published yune 20, 1823; 
Author's age, 52 ; Time 0/ action., 1470. 

TT is said that " the sensation which this novel, on its first appear- 
•^ ance, created in Paris, was extremely similar to that which 
attended the original ' Waverley ' in Edinburgh, and ' Ivanhoe ' after- 
wards in London. For the first time Scott had ventured on foreign 
ground ; and the French public, long wearied of the pompous tra- 
gedians and feeble romancers, who had alone striven to bring out the 
ancient history and manners of their country in popular forms, 
were seized with a fever of delight when Louis XL and Charles 
the Bold started into life again at the beck of the Northern Ma- 
gician. . . . The infection of admiration ran far and wide on the 
continent." 

"The scene of this romance (wrote Scott in 1831) is laid in the 
fifteenth century, when the feudal system, which had been the 
sinews and nerves of national defence, and the spirit of chivalry, 
by which, as by a vivifying soul, that system was animated, began 
to be innovated upon and abandoned by those grosser characters 
who centred their sum of happiness in procuring the personal 
objects on which they had fixed their own exclusive attachment. . . . 
Among those who were the first to ridicule and abandon the self- 
denying principles in which the young knight was instructed, and 
to which he was so carefully trained up, Louis the Xlth of France 
was the chief. That sovereign was of a character so purely selfish, 
so guiltless of entertaining any purpose unconnected with his ambi- 
tion, covetousness, and desire of selfish enjoyment, that he almost 
seems an incarnation of the devil himself, permitted to do his 
utmost to corrupt our ideas of honor in its very source." Possess- 
ing caustic wit, and great power to ridicule ; cruel, perjured, insen- 
sible to moral obligations, totally unscrupulous and cunning, he 
was, as Scott thought, a Mephistopheles of state. His active life, 
the changes of thought and of institutions going on during his 
reign, and the history, both public and private, of his times, ren- 
dered them an effective period for the action of a romance. 



^22 ''QUEXTIN DURWARD:' 

" England's civil wars [of the two roses] were ended rather in 
appearance than reality, by the short-lived ascendency of the 
House of York. Switzerland was asserting that freedom which 
was afterwards so bravely defended. In the Empire, and in France, 
the great vassals of the crown were endeavoring to emancipate 
themselves from its control ; while Charles of Burgundy by main 
force, and Louis more artfully by indirect means, labored to subject 
them to subservience to their respective sovereignties. Louis, 
while with one hand he circumvented and subdued his own rebel- 
lious vassals, labored secretly with the other to aid and encourage 
the large trading towns of Flanders to rebel against the Duke of 
Burgundy, to which their wealth and irritabihty naturally disposed 
them. In the more woodland districts of Flanders, the Duke of 
Gueldres and WiUiam de la Marck — called from his ferocity the 
Wild Boar of Ardennes — were throwing off the habits of knights 
and gentlemen, to practise the violences and brutalities of common 
bandits. 

" A hundred secret combinations existed in the different prov- 
inces of France and Flanders ; numerous private emissaries of the 
restless Louis — Bohemians, pilgrims, beggars, or agents disguised 
as such — were everywhere spreading the discontent which it was 
his policy to maintain in the dominions of Burgundy." In this 
turbulent period, amid its changes of feudal institutions, the action 
of this story is laid. " The mainspring of the plot is . . . the right 
of a feudal superior ... to interfere in the marriage of a female 
vassal," a right that Louis — whatever other observance he had of 
feudal customs — did not hesitate to use, in a supposed case, in 
order to form an " aUiance which might prove inconvenient, if not 
dangerous, to his formidable kinsman and vassal," the Duke of 
Burgundy, by betraying a fugitive subject of the latter, who had 
sought his own protection. 

" O beau pays de la Touraine ! 
Riants jardins, verte foiitaine, 
Ruisseau qui murmures k peine, 
Que sur tes bords j'aime A rever I 
Belles forets, sombre feuillage, 
Cachez-moi bien sous votre ombrage." 

Thus Meyerbeer and Eugene Scribe make Marguerite de Valois 
sing in that magnificent opera, " Les Huguenots ; " and thus may 
sing the traveller through that fair province, not alone of France, 



' ' Q UENTIN D UR WARD:' 423 

but also in the lands of Scott. This tour through the latter is sup- 
posed to have led from Britain, with its charmed haunts, to Paris, 
often so gay, so brilliant, and so beautiful, and thence southward 
to the pleasant land of Touraine. The original introduction to 
" Quentin Durward " has a dehghtful sketch of a fine old-country 
residence in or near the province, — an air-castle called the Chateau 
de Hautlieu, represented to have stood upon terraces above the 
river Loire. But, imaginary though it is, it suggests several noble 
castles that yet adorn that valley, and that are yet among the 
choicest domestic relics and historical monuments of France ; 
their very names forming a spell that brings around us visions 
t>f some of its most splendid times, — Blois, Chambord, Amboise, 
so pleasing, so suggestive, and so stately. 

The story opens " upon a delicious summer morning," " near to 
the royal Castle of Plessis-les-Tours, whose dark and multiplied 
battlements rose in the background over the extensive forest with 
which they were surrounded, and which in turn was encompassed 
by the rich plain " that " has been termed the Garden of France." 
As this castle was a celebrated place in its time, and continued 
important in history, and as it is a chief scene of much of the 
earlier portion of this story, one may be allowed to quote red- 
covered " Murray," ubiquitous and useful, for direction to it and 
for some description (" France," in several editions). 

'•'• Plessis les Tours,^'' says that sometimes abused but generally 
faithful friend to the traveller, " the castellated den of the tyrant 
and bigot Louis XL, with which all the world is acquainted 
through the admirable descriptions in ' Ouentin Durward,' is 
situated in the commune of La Riche, adjoining a humble hamlet 
of scattered cottages, on a perfectly flat plain, about a mile distant 
trom the Halle au Ble on the west of Tours, passing the Barriere 
des Oiseaux, and beyond the Hospice Generale. Visitors to Plessis 
must not expect any thing in the shape of a feudal castle, for it was 
built at a time when fortresses were giving place to fortified 
mansions. When complete, it must have been somewhat like the 
older parts of Hampton Court and Saint James Palaces, which 
were built not many years after Plessis, with this difference, that 
the avarice of Louis, and his apprehension of danger, caused 
it to be raised in so plain a style, and with so many defensive pre- 
cautions, walls, drawbridges, battlements, and wet and dry ditches, 
that its outer appearance must have been more that of a prison 



434 ''QUENTIN DUE ward:' 

than of a palace." The small fragment now remaining looL.s 
like a mean, ordinary dwelling, and formed part of the inner 
construction, but was surrounded by three ramparts and fosses. 
It is of plain red brick, with quoins of stone and sash windows, 
surmounted by a high pitched roof; almost all traces of the scanty 
ornaments have been destroyed. " Originally a cloister ran along 
the front. All traces are gone of the pit-falls, fosses, &c., which 
originally surrounded the castle ; but on the left, as you approach 
the house, are seen the foundations of walls of masonry ; and a 
door, below ground, leads into a range of vaulted chambers barely 
lighted by small windows, which may once have served for prisons 
as they now do for cellars." " The whole has been recently restored 
in good taste by ... M. Petit, an advocate of Tours." " Louis 
ended his miserable life here, 1483." " Plessis was converted into 
a Depot de Mendicite about 1778 ; and was sold and pulled down 
at the Revolution. Plessis hes on the tongue of land betv/een the 
Loire and Cher, about one mile from the Cher, and nine miles above 
their junction." " Between Plessis and the Hospice is an old 
house called La Rabaterie, having a square turret at the back, 
which passes for the residence of Ohver le Dain, the barber and 
minister of Louis," and a well-known character in this novel. 
The house is quite irregular, steep-roofed, and picturesque. Tours 
is a neat and handsome city of moderate size. It contains the 
usual modern French component parts, — good shops and com- 
fortable hotels, — and, besides these, a noble bridge over the wide 
Loire, several old towers, the remains of a castle dating from 
Roman times, and many churches. Among these is the fine 
cathedral dedicated to St. Gatien, an interesting Gothic edifice, 
recently " restored " internally, and having two curious western 
towers over two hundred and sixty feet high, and some excellent 
colored glass, and monumental sculpture. The richly glazed tri- 
forium, clerestory, and apse, present those lofty, airy, traceried 
walls of crystal in which French mediaeval architects delighted. 
Externally, the edifice is less obstructed than is apt to be the case 
in the northern parts of the continent. Its color is dark iron-gray, 
its Pointed style is varied by picturesque Renaissance additions, 
particularly noticeable upon the towers, that rise imposingly and are 
to be seen from far over the wide plain of Touraine. 

There is, or recently was, also, at No. 18 Rue des Trois Pu- 
celles, the house of another character in this story, — or perhaps 



''QUENTIN DURWAKD:' 425 

ivhat passes for the house cf one, — "that of Tristan I'Hermite, 
the ill-omened executioner of Louis XI. It is a brick mansion, 
apparently of the fifteenth century ; its front terminates in a gable" 
flanked by a stair-turret seventy feet high. Whoever lived in it, it 
is worth seeing as an example of domestic town-architecture of that 
period. 

At the beginning of the action of the story introduced, Quentin 
Durward appeared on the summer morning already mentioned, — 
a young Scotchman, brave, hardy, well-descended, wandering in 
search of occupation as a bowman or man-at-arms. He encoun- 
tered two persons by whom he was led to Plessis. 

Scott described the grim palace as it was in its sternest and most 
complete condition. Three strong walls and three deep fosses 
encompassed an " enclosure," within which "arose the castle itself, 
containing buildings of different periods, crowded around, and 
united with the ancient and grim-looking donjon-keep, which was 
older than any of them, and which rose, like a black Ethiopian 
giant, high into the air ; while the absence of any windows larger 
than shot-holes, irregularly disposed for defence, gave the spectator 
the same unpleasant feeling which we experience on looking at a 
blind man. The other buildings seemed scarcely better adapted 
for the purposes of comfort, for the windows opened to an inner 
and enclosed court-yard." It was built of dark-colored materials 
and soot-tinted cement, in order to increase this gloomy effect. 
The entrance-way, through the various circumvallating defences, 
was intricate, and easily rendered of the most difficult passage. In 
addition, the whole environs of the castle were thickly studded 
"with every species of hidden pitfall, snare, and gin to entrap" 
any unguarded comer. If few examples of such strongholds re- 
main in France, there are yet to be found houses of contemporane- 
ous existence that were seats of the higher classes, and that yet 
give one adequate idea of their style of hfe. The well-known and 
very interesting Hotel de Cluny at Paris is a perfect treasury of 
mediaeval domestic relics : its quaint apartments seem to receive 
one back into the fifteenth century, and self-denial is required to 
prevent more thought of them than can be contained in this brief 
allusion. At Bourges (one hundred and forty-six miles south of 
Paris) is the Hotel de la Chausee, or de la Ville, formerly the house 
of Jacques Coeur, minister of finance to Charles VII. the prede- 
::essor of Louis XL This man, the great merchant prince and 



426 ''dUENTIN DUE WARD." 

Rothschild of his time, built this house at about the time Plessis 
was shaped ; and it remains one of the most curious in France, and 
will give the traveller a very fair conception of a grand residence 
at the period of this story. The eastern front of the Castle of Blois 
dates back nearly to the same time. The Castle of Amboise, al- 
though of almost indefinite antiquity and produced by many archi- 
tectural changes, may yet illustrate the best parts of Plessis. At 
it Louis XI. resided ; and on Aug. i, 1469, instituted the order of 
the knights of St. Michael. Its apartments were "restored" about 
twenty-five years ago, but have in that time experienced vicissi 
tudes. 

It is probable, however, that we must seek for the most complete 
extant example of edifices indicative of domestic and personal 
characteristics of Louis XL at another "palace" or seat of his, 
also described in the novel, though it is not so prominent a scene, — 
at Loches, about twenty miles south-east of Tours, Loches is " one 
of the most picturesque towns of Touraine," crowded around the 
base of a lofty rock bearing the imposing remains of a historic 
castle, once a royal palace, but during the reign of Louis XL a 
prison " more dreaded than Plessis itself . . . described," says 
Scott, " as a place destined to the workings of those secret acts of 
cruelty with which even Louis shamed to pollute the interior of his 
own residence. There were in this place of terror dungeons under 
dungeons, some of them unknown even to the keepers themselves, — 
living graves, to which men were consigned, with little hope of 
farther employment during the rest of their life than to breathe 
impure air, and to feed on bread and water. At this formidable 
castle were also those dreadful places of confinement called cages, 
in which the wretched prisoner could neither stand upright nor 
stretch himself at length ; an invention, it is said, of the Cardinal 
Balue " (who himself tenanted one of these dens for more than 
eleven years). The walls of the castle are even and perfect 
masonry, apparently of Norman workmanship. It has a keep, 
now empty, with walls eight feet thick and one hundred and twenty 
feet high, resembling the keeps of London and Rochester. " Be- 
side it rises a picturesque group of less ancient towers, in one of 
which, circular in form) are the terrible Cachots of Louis XL, 
extending downwards in four stories below one another." Two of 
them contained iron cages, that existed in them until 1789. The 
author of " Feudal Castles of France " gives an interesting sketch 



''QUENTIN DURWARD:' 427 

of the history of this formidable stronghold, and considerable detail 
of its present aspect. He describes his approach to it and its 
characteristics in a pleasant and graphic manner. " As we emerged," 
he says, " from the vast old forest, which, in the sombre grandeur 
of its noble timber, and the width of its grass-grown roads, re- 
minded us much of that of Fontainebleau, we came upon a steep 
declivity, bringing us down to the Valley of the Indre, on the oppo- 
site side of which, clothed in all the majesty of its singular beauty, 
burst upon our sight the rocky eminence of Loches, — almost a 
Subiaco of the North. If we were to select among the chateaux 
of Touraine that which combined the highest pictorial perfection 
with the highest historical interest, we must point out that of 
Loches, as presenting to the artist, as well as the archaeologist, all 
that is most captivating to the eye and to the inteUigence. The 
approach to the old town — of which this celebrated ancient castle is 
the nucleus and the glory — is absolutely enchanting ; we can remem- 
ber nothing that will bear comparison with it in any part of France. 
. . . On the summit of a steep and lofty rock towers this command- 
ing relic of an age whose history is darkly intimated by the stern, 
uncompromising outline, whether of its rugged pedestal, or of its 
towers, its dungeons, its earthworks, and its outposts. . . . Scott's 
record of Loches is a living description, and eloquently conveys 
the feeling, almost of awe, with which one surveys it." 

Again recalling his story, we recall the incident that Quentin 
Durward was led, by the two persons whom he met, to Plessis, and 
that he breakfasted at the Fleur de lys inn with the elder, under 
whose auspices, he there also obtained quarters. But better fortune 
than this permitted him, when he went to his room, to hear from a 
neighboring turret a pretty maid singing, to the notes of a lute that 
she played, a charming love-song ; and he had a delightful glimpse 
of her while she sang. He soon found that she was very myste- 
rious and inaccessible ; and 3'et that she must become the heroine 
of an important portion of his career. He was led towards this by 
the result of an interview with an uncle, Ludovic Lesl}^, an old 
archer in the royal Scotch Guard, in which Quentin took service 
and was stationed at the Castle of Plessis-les-Tours. There he 
found that one of his guides on the summer morning was the King, 
into whose further acquaintance and even confidence he before long 
was admitted, on account of his character and an act by which he 
saved the royal life at a boar hunt. His fortunes were again ad 



42S ''QUENTIN DURWARD:' 

vanced by Louis, who, after a defiance brought by the ambassador 
of the Duke of Burgundy, sent him on a difficult and dangerous 
expedition to Liege in Flanders. He was intrusted with the escort 
thither of two ladies, under royal protection, one of whom was a 
ward of Louis' hostile and powerful vassal, the Duke. The value 
and nature of this protection, and the King's real object in the mis- 
sion, were proved within a short time ; and so also were Quentin's 
pluck and worth. His reward appeared in the fact that he was 
appointed to attend upon the fascinating singer whom he heard 
when he first arrived at Plessis. Her name was there said to be 
Jacqueline ; but really she was Isabelle, disguised Countess of 
Croye. Many obstructions were opposed during the journey of 
the party ; but these, and the various adventures of travelling in 
that turbulent age, were successfully encountered, and, on the tenth 
or twelfth day, quarters were found at the Franciscan convent at 
Namur. There Quentin learned from the prior the condition of 
Liege. He detected, also, a plot, in which his guide was engaged, 
for consummating one of the King's objects in the mission, — the 
betrayal of the ladies in his charge to the high-born but ferocious 
marauder, William de la Marck, surnamed expressively, from his 
character, " the Wild Boar of Ardennes." Quentin thwarted this 
purpose by changing the route to Liege, where he at length arrived 
safely with his party, and where he hoped to place the ladies awhile 
under protection of the Prince Bishop. 

Liege, during centuries an important place, is now a well-known 
city on the great thoroughfare between central Belgium and the 
Rhine, and is busy with manufactures and picturesque in situation. 
Although devastations have often swept over it, it contains not a 
few relics of antiquity. The party in the story are said to have 
found the bishop established at his "beautiful Castle of Schon- 
waldt, about a mile without Liege." Travellers need spend no 
time in search for this residence, and indeed for other Belgian 
scenes of this story ; they have disappeared ; or if they have not 
disap|-2ared, the reason is that they had not a real existence to 
leave. Scott never visited these localities of his story ; so that, in 
various degree, they were imagined by him. And yet, as a writer 
remarks, "from the vividness of his description of the town, and 
the perfect consistency of all his topographical details, few readers 
would doubt that he was personally acquainted with it." His treat- 
ment of its history is generally correct, but some occurrences are 



''QUENTIN DURWARD:' 439 

adapted to the effect of his composition. At the time of the story, 
the citizens of Liege, always enterprising and unquiet, numbered 
one hundred and twenty thousand. They had become elated by 
wealth and power, and insubordinate to the bishop and to Charles 
the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, to whom they owed allegiance. In 
1467, only three years before Quentin's supposed visit, the Duke 
severely punished this insubordination, that, notwithstanding, again 
during the next year broke into an open revolt, instigated, it is said, 
by Louis XL They then seized the bishop, and brought him 
prisoner, from his castle at Tongres, to their own city. They were 
led by a man called Le Sauvage, under whom they committed many 
atrocities. In 1482, after the death of the Duke, Marck murdered 
the bishop. This revolt and murder are combined in the action of 
the story. The Duke actually subdued this fierce rebel and the 
Liegeois, and destroyed the city, except the ecclesiastical buildings. 
Ax. " Schonwaldt," Ouentin was separated from the Countess 
Isabelle, and soon had an opportunity to become acquainted with 
Liege as it was both before and during the continuance of this 
revolt. He beheld and admired " the lofty houses ; the stately, 
though narrow and gloomy streets ; the splendid display of the 
richest goods and most gorgeous armor in the warehouses and 
shops around ; the walks crowded by busy citizens of every de- 
scription, passing and repassing with faces of careful importance 
or eager bustle, — the hugh wains, which transported to and fro the 
subjects of export and import . . . the canals " of communication, 
" traversing the city in various directions," and the ancient and 
then numerous churches. This mediaeval Liege has nearly disap- 
peared ; and yet the city contains curious old edifices, that, although 
generally not as old as Quentin's time, yet perhaps sufficiently illus- 
trate it. The Cathedral of St. Lambert — a building of the eighth 
century, in which Ouentin is represented to have heard mass — 
was utterly destroyed during the excesses of the French revo- 
lutionary invasion. It stood opposite the Palais de Justice, or 
former Episcopal palace. The latter, somehow apt to be asso- 
ciated with this story, was built by Prince Bishop Erard de la 
Marck in 1533, and remains a very interesting structure. The 
most noticeable portion is the court surrounded by a large, quaint, 
cloister-hke colonnade, having a pier at each of the four corners, 
and, between these, sixteen pillars on two sides, and twelve on 
the other two, besides engaged pillars at the piers. Each of 



430 ''QUENTIN DURWARDr 

these pillars (numbering more than sixty) is curiously fashioned 
and covered with elaborate tracery and foliage, each differing from 
the others. All are executed in dark stone. They support a low- 
arched, brick vaulting, ribbed with stone ; and a high second story, 
varying in design on the four sides ; and above this a high, ugly, 
slated roof. The area is not scrupulously clean. The architecture 
suggests that pleasing, half- Moresque cloister in the old Bourse 
at Antwerp, now rebuilt and enlarged. There is a second court 
not in so good order. Perhaps, however, the edifice best worth 
seeing at Liege is the Church of St. Jacques. It cannot be asso- 
ciated with this story, having been built between 15 13 and 1528 ; 
but it is a very rare and interesting example of the richest Pointed 
architecture, and contains some of the most perfect existing painted 
glass. The exterior is, as usual in many continental towns, ob- 
structed by inferior buildings ; but the interior is open and in toler- 
able order. It is built of pale stone, resembling that of Caen in 
texture and color. The roof is intricately ribbed and nearly cov- 
ered with Arabesque polychromatic decoration. The apse is superb, 
with a range of low-arched chapels, an elaborately traceried tri- 
forium (that extends through the church), and a very lofty clere- 
story, with sumptuously carved corbels, canopies, and statuary. 
There are several very ancient churches — much older than the 
time of the story — that will repay examination. From the tower of 
St. Martin's, situated in the upper part of the city, — a worn, vener- 
able gray tower, — may be had perhaps the best view of Liege and 
its environs, with the great quadrangle of the bishop's palace, the 
varied town around it, the rivers that meet there, and the great, 
green, yet thickly inhabited hills that enclose all. 

While Quentin examined the old city, he had an opportunity to 
witness an uproar in it, characteristic of the times, and in which 
he innocently became an important actor. Escaping this, however, 
he soon was involved in a more desperate affair, — a night assault 
and capture of the bishop's castle by the insurgent citizens. Con- 
stantly watchful of the ladies of Croye, he sought to serve them 
during this trouble, and succeeded in rescuing one of them ; but it 
must be confessed greatly to his agitation, when he found that he 
had saved the aunt of the Countess Isabelle, and not that lovely 
being herself, who was somehow then betrayed into the power of 
William de la Marck. This misfortune at once caused Quentin to 
explore the bishop's palace where the fierce rebel held a wild revel. 



" Q UEN TIN D UR WARD. " ^31 

rendered tragic by the murder of the bishop, — an event start- 
lingly described by Scott. Quentin bravely contrived to escape 
thence with the lady Isabelle, and to elude the black troopers of 
Marck who pursued them. 

The place of action then changed from Li^ge to Peronne, at that 
time a great castle held for the Duke of Burgundy. Once a very 
strongly fortified place, and of considerable importance, it is now 
rather an out-of-the-way and infrequently visited town about thirty 
miles east of Amiens. It is "situated upon a deep river, in a flat 
country, and [was] surrounded by strong bulwarks and profound 
moats " at the time of the story. It has been thought "one of the 
strongest fortresses in France." " Indeed," adds a note to the 
novel, "though lying on an exposed and warlike frontier, it was 
never taken by an enemy, but preserved the proud name of Peronne 
la Pucelle, until the Duke of Wellington, a great destroyer of that 
sort of reputation, took the place in the memorable advance upon 
Paris in 181 5." "Though still fortified by a brick rampart and a 
ditch, it is no longer of any importance as a fortress, from its being 
commanded by . . . neighboring heights." It "is much dilapi- 
dated," says Murray, ever present and ready. " A large part is 
probably not older than the sixteenth century. Yet there remain 
many dismal dungeons on the ground-floor. The chamber occupied 
by Louis is still pointed out in the Tour Herbert ; and, beside it, 
the miserable cell, on a level with the moat, where Charles the 
Simple ended his days, a wretched captive." The town is not of 
unusual interest. There the splendid Duke received King Louis 
and a small retinue, and entertained them at a great supper, during 
which the Duke charged his royal guest with having instigated the 
murder of the Bishop of Li^ge. An exciting uproar ensued, — and 
a scene that is historical, described by Philip de Comines, — during 
which Louis narrowly escaped a fatal bar to his career, fortunate, 
indeed, in finding the scene end in nothing worse than his confine- 
ment by the Duke, who was violently incensed at news he then 
received from Liege, especially the account of the murder of his 
friend and ally the bishop. Several important incidents ensued. 
Examination was had into the subject of the king's comphcity with 
the revolt of the Liegeois and its consequences, and a variety of 
diplomacy was exhibited. The Countess Isabelle, in the course of 
her fortunes, established there, refused an exalted alliance offered 
to her. Finally, the King and the Duke became in a degree recon- 



433 '^QUENTIN DUE ward:' 

ciled; and Louis escaped from captivity by submission to terms 
that his powerful vassal exacted from him, — terms specifying that 
he would in person accompany the Duke and employ the royal 
troops in subduing the rebellion that he had instigated. The King, 
performing these "bitter and degrading conditions" (to which he 
was further obliged to swear, upon a crucifix said to have belonged 
to Charlemagne), left Peronne with the Duke and their respective 
troops and attacked Liege. Desperate fighting ensued, account 
of which is fully and graphically given on the pages of the novel, — 
an account that will entertain an evening or two at a hotel there, 
and that need not be sketched here, since this military move 
brought again the action of the story to the place that was the last 
scene of it. Very properly, however, mention may here be added, 
that the Scotch archer conducted himself with all his character- 
istic pluck and endurance, and that his uncle did due vengeance 
upon the ferocious Wilham de la Marck. But only the words of 
Scott himself should tell the fortunes of the Countess Isabelle, 
and how "sense, firmness, and gallantry" were put in possession 
of " wealth, rank, and beauty ; " and this sketch may end with the 
lines that complete his elaborately and magnificently finished com- 
position : — 

" Some better bard shall sing, in feudal state, 
How Braquemont's Castle op'd its Gothic gate, 
When, on the wand'ring Scot, its lovely heir 
Bestow'd her beauty and an earldom fair." 

Travellers who have passed from France into Belgium may be 
supposed to journey through that pleasant land, and to see its 
abundant reHcs of the richest people of the Middle Ages, and some 
of the most sumptuous architecture of that period. Then they 
may traverse the famous and beautiful valley of the Rhine, with its 
profuse attractions of scenery and art, of history and romance, of 
brilliant and gay watering places, ancient cities, and modern com- 
fort united to old-world wonders, until Switzerland — that fasci- 
nating country — is reached;, and, in it, the scene of the opening 
of another of the Great Magician's mediaeval romances, — the 
action of which is represented to have occurred only half a dozen 
years after the adventures of Quentin Durward, and that introduces 
several of the historical persons portrayed in the story bearing his 
name. This opening scene is near the picturesque and delightful 
city of Lucerne, charmingly situated on the Lake of tlie Four 
Cantons. 



**ANNE OF GEIERSTEINy 433 

XLV. 

"Anne of Geierstein." 

Twenty-seventh Novel 0/ the Series ; Written 1828-29; Published May, 1829; 
Author's age, 58 ; Ti77te of action, 1474-77. 

TT7HILE the history and the sublime and beautiful scenery of 
^ ^ Switzerland seem to have inspired few native writers, or 
indeed any whose works possess the world-wide celebrity of their 
country, and whose names have become as famihar as have those 
of the authors of some other countries, any such deficiency seems 
curiously supplied by associations that many of the most prominent 
writers of other lands have created in it with themselves and with 
tlieir works. Indeed, during the last hundred years, few great 
European authors have omitted mention of Switzerland, and several 
have invested some of its noblest scenes with the charms of their 
genius, that are suggested almost everywhere throughout its extent. 
Near Geneva, at Ferney, in full view of the Alps and of the lake, 
Voltaire lived and wrote for nearly twenty years (i 759-1 777). 
Farther east, along the same lake, at Lausanne, lived and wrote 
Gibbon. There, he has informed us, "in a summer-house in my 
garden," on "the night of the 27th of June, 1787, between the 
hours of eleven and twelve ... I wrote the last line of the last 
page " of the " History of Rome, in her Decline and Fall." Yet 
farther east is Clarens, celebrated by Rousseau in his " Nouvelle 
H^loise," and by that greater genius whose immortal verse lives 
like sweet music through many a glorious Swiss scene, — by Byron, 
whose more exquisite sentiment apostrophizes, — 

" Clarens, birthplace of deep Love 1 
Thine air is the young breath of passionate thought : " 

*' 'T was not for fiction chose Rousseau this spot, 
Peopling it with affections ; but he found 
It was the scene which passion must allot 
To the mind's purified beings." 

Not far beyond it is Chillon, where hngered Bonnivard, as told by 
Byron, where came the tragic end of H^loise. On the other hand 
from Geneva, who, when near Chamouni, does not recall those 
familiar words of Coleridge ? — 



434 ^'ANNE OF geierstein:" 

" Hast thou a charm to ?tay the morning star 
In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause 
On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc ! " 

And how better has an American poet, in verse, associated with 
those noble Hnes and that subHme spot the idea expressed in prose 
at the opening of this chapter. Says Holmes (in " Urania "), — 

" Unblest by any save the goat-herd's lines, 
Mont Blanc rose soaring through ' his sea of pines'; 
In vain the Arve and Arveiron dash, 
No hymn salutes them but the Ranz des Vaches, 
Till lazy Coleridge, by the morning's light, 
Gazed for a moment on the fields of white, 
And lo, the glaciers found at length a tongue, 
Mont Blanc was vocal, and Chamouni sung ! " 

Again, beneath the mighty mountain walls of the Lake of the 
Four Cantons, where Tell and his brave Swiss lived and fought, 
how suggestively are read noble words in bright letters upon a crag 
rising from the deep waters : — 

"Dem SUnger Tell's, Friedrich Schiller. Die Ur-Cantone, 1859." 

" (To Frederick Schiller, the bard of Tell. The Swiss Cantons : 1859.) » 

And how one longs to hear Rossini's stirring music resound 
through that adequately grand scene ! And among the high Alps 
of the Oberland of Berne, how are its heights and the peerless 
crest of the Jungfrau haunted by that strange, awful spirit, — Byron 
as " Manfred " ! But one need not add illustration of the eloquence 
of European or of American genius with which this land of the 
Swiss is all vocal. And one must repress the many thoughts that 
come of the exciting records of adventurous mountain-climbers and 
Alpine- Club men. Theirs is a new and lesser, but far from ignoble, 
literature, full of manhness if not of sentiment. 

Among all the writers who have associated their doing and 
thinking with this wonderful land, so comprehensive a genius 
and author as Sir Walter Scott is not wanting, but introduces us 
among its central glories to one of his later works, — indeed, 
almost the last work of his imagination, that, if not of highest 
strain, is yet far above any similar rivals in that region. 

He began this work during the autumn of 1828, when, as he said, 
he had become " a writing automaton," while he was making his 
gigantic efforts — time and he — against misfortune. He finished 
it "before breakfast on the 29th of April," 1829, and "immediately 



''ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 435 

after breakfast he began his Compendium of Scottish History for 
Dr. Lardner's Cyclopaedia." Scott himself says, "it was chiefly 
the work of leisure hours in Edinburgh," where he had not at hand 
"the stores of a library tolerably rich in historical works, and 
especially the memoirs of the Middle Ages, amidst which " he 
"had been accustomed to pursue the composition of" his "ficti- 
tious narratives." He consequently rehed much upon his wonder- 
fully retentive and well-stored memory, and produced another vivid 
illustration of the men and of the life and scenes of the turbulent 
fifteenth century. The tale is one showing the cheerless fate of 
exiles from home and country, even when that country was civilly 
distracted England ; showing the heroic age of the Swiss and their 
remarkable resistance to one of the most powerful men of that time 
in Europe ; showing what travelling was when mediaeval robber- 
barons flourished ; and showing also the reach and the power of 
the awful VeJwie of Westphalia, so dreadful a name "in men's ears 
during many centuries." 

As already planned, travellers are supposed to have reached 
Central Switzerland, where the action of this story began, " in the 
autumn of 1474," by presenting two travellers, who passed a night 
at Lucerne. They were on their way from Venice towards Bale, 
and appeared to be merchants, who had procured a supply of com- 
modities at the great emporium of commerce on the Adriatic ; but 
their bearing was hardly that of ordinary traders. They were 
strangely hurried, and did not care to show their wares to the 
Swiss ; and they spoke a language supposed by the people of Lu- 
cerne, who met them, to be Enghsh, — a tongue with which they 
have become more acquainted in these days of cockney tourists. 
One of the two travellers was "considerably past the prime of life, 
the other two or three and twenty years old." They departed next 
morning from Lucerne. " For several hours after," their "journey 
. . . was successfully prosecuted." Their road, though steep and 
diflicult, was rendered interesting by the grand and varied scenery 
of the country, but it was not an age when the landscape was 
regarded for much other than strategic reasons. " Their road lay 
along the side of the lake, at times level and close on its very mar- 
gin, at times rising to a great height on the side of the mountain, 
and winding along the verge of precipices which sunk down to the 
water as sharp and sheer as the wall of a castle descending upon 
the ditch which defends it. At other times it traversed spots of a 



436 "AXXE OF GEIERSTEISr 

milder character, — delightful green slopes, and lowly retired val- 
leys, affording both pasturage and arable ground, sometimes watered 
by small streams, which winded by the hamlet of wooden huts, with 
their fantastic little church and steeple, meandered round the or- 
chard and the mount of \'ines, and, murmuring gently as they flowed, 
found a quiet passage into the lake.*' A storm was, however, gather- 
ing around the gloomy height of " Mount Pilatre, . . . which, in that 
quarter, seems the lenathan of the huge congregation of mountains 
assembled about Lucerne." Their guide "crossed himself de- 
voutly, as he recounted the popular legend, that the wicked Pontius 
Pilate, Proconsul of Judea, had here found the termination of his 
impious life ; ha\nng, after spending years in the recesses of that 
mountain which bears his name, at length, in remorse and despair 
rather than in penitence, plunged into the dismal lake which occu- 
pies the summit. . . . His vexed spirit continued to haunt the place 
where he committed suicide," and was often seen hovering about it, 
and causing storms to burst forth, especially when disturbed by the 
approach of strangers towards the mountain top. The storm that was 
then gathering rapidly over the travellers seemed to be one of these. 
Their guide, though urging speed, seemed confused, while they 
labored on for three or four miles, until they were beside other waters 
than those of the Lake of Lucerne, and their narrow path was ab- 
ruptly terminated by a precipice. The scene around them was very 
wild ; amid its perplexities, the only shelter apparent was a ruinous 
tower, seemiingly uninhabited, and situated beyond the abyss yawn- 
ing before them. This tower was Geierstein, " the Rock of the Vul- 
tures." But there was desperate danger in reaching it, proved by 
the attempt To the troubled travellers, however, appeared a really 
guardian angel. " Upon the very summit of a pyramidical rock, that 
rose out of the depth of the valley, was seen a female figure, so 
obscured by mist that only the outline could be traced." At first 
she seemed a supernatural being ; but she soon became e\adent as a 
" maiden of those mountains, familiar with their dangerous paths." 
From the perils of that just described she in a short time adven- 
turously rescued the two travellers. 

The temptation to quote all of Scott's minute description of this 
admirable young lady is strong, especially as she became the heroine 
of this story, and as she displayed a costume and a person now rare 
in that part of the world. She " was something above the common 
size, and . . . the whole contour of her form without being in the 



"^AXXE OF GEIERSTEIX:- 437 

slightest degree masculine, resembled that of Miner\-a, rather than 
the proud beauties of Juno, or the jielding graces of Venus. The 
noble brow, the well-formed and active limbs, the firm and yet hght 
step, — above all, the total absence of any thing resembhng the con- 
sciousness of personal beauty, and the open and candid look, '' — ren- 
dered her not an unworthy impersonation " of the goddess of wisdom 
and of chastit}'." Her dress was that which we now, unfortunately, 
only see upon stage Swiss. "An upper vest, neither so close as to 
display the person, a habit forbidden by the sumptuary- laws of the 
canton, nor so loose as to be an incumbrance in walking or climb- 
ing, covered a close tunic of a difierent color, and came down 
beneath the middle of the leg, but suffered the ankle, in all its fine 
proportions, to be completely visible." The foot was defended by 
an open-worked sandal. The vest was secured by a sash around 
the waist, and the tunic was somewhat open about the neck. " The 
small portion of the throat and bosom thus exposed was even more 
brilliantly fair than was promised by the countenance, which last 
bore some marks of having been freely exposed to the sun and air, 
by no means in a degree to diminish its beaut}-, but just so far as to 
show that the maiden possessed the health which is purchased by 
habits of rural exercise. Her long fair hair fell down in a profusion 
of curls on each side of a face, whose blue eyes, lovely features, and 
dignified simplicity" of expression, imphed at once a character of 
gentleness, and of the seh"-relying resolution of a mind too \-irtuous 
to suspect evil, and too noble to fear it." An exquisite httle cap, 
decorated with a heron's feather, and a slight gold chain, gave com- 
pleteness to her costume, and a crown to her fascinating person. 

She guided the younger traveller by a path averted from a tor- 
rent, above which he had met her, and led him to the old castle, 
" within sight of one of the most splendid and awful scenes of that 
mountainous region. The ancient tower of Geierstein, though neithei 
extensive nor distinguished by architectural ornament, possessed 
an air of terrible dignity by its position," perched above a chasm 
through which roared a stream, and reached by the narrowest of 
arches thrown over this chasm. The edifice, surrounded by appro 
pnate outworks, was ruinous and dismantled. Near it, however, 
was a log-house, in which the tu'O travellers found shelter, with the 
fair guide and her friends who lived there. While one will find 
difficulty in identif}-ing the precise places described thus by Scott, 
one will find that in his landscapes the general characteristics of the 



4.3S ''ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 

country around the bases of the Pilatus can readily be perceived ; 
and one can but admire the graphic and natural manner in which he 
has pictured them, without having ever seen them. 

The two travellers in the story, instead of taking the more open 
and direct route towards Bale, by Sursee or the Enthbuch road, 
north of the Pilatus, appear to have passed around its southern 
boundaries, and to have had the lake beside them as described. 
They apparently journeyed along the northern shore of the secluded 
and beautiful Lake or Bay of Alpnach, a western branch of the 
great Lake of the Four Cantons. Over this shore the Pilatus rises 
very boldly, as they beheld it. Afterwards, they found themselves 
beside another expanse of water, and, subsequently, when they 
seemed to be losing their way, in a narrow glen, in the Canton of 
Unterwalden. They intended to travel by circuitous and unfre- 
quented routes, through the more peaceful or less exposed districts, 
and this purpose, together with the confusing effects of the storm 
that overtook them, explained, apparently, their divergence from the 
direct route to Bale. This essay upon the " local habitations " of 
the great Magician's creations cannot (the remark may be repeated) 
identify with accuracy the place of shelter to which they were guided 
by the maid of the mist. The romantic Alpine valley Melchthal, 
opening from Saarnen, may be suggested. In the Rathhaus of that 
town are said to be portraits of the landammen of the canton from 
1 38 1 to 1824, one of whom the guardian of the maid is described to 
have been ; the writer is not, however, aware that his portrait 
appears in that extended collection. At the entrance of Melchthal 
is the ancient tower of Saint Nicholas's Church, the first Christian 
house of worship in the country. Over Saarnen rises the Landen- 
berg, on which once was the castle of a Hapsburg bailiff, whose 
cruelties led to its destruction in 1308, — one of the earliest epi- 
sodes in the struggle of the Swiss for independence. In the valley 
lived Arnold of Melchthal, one of the three brave men who, at 
Griitli, inaugurated the freedom of their country. These incidents, 
that probably would have been at once observed by Scott, may, 
with the scenery associated with them, have suggested his com- 
position of his really imaginary Swiss scenes. This sketch may 
need only the statement that the two travellers in the story reached 
welcome shelter. There, in brief time, the admiration and wonder 
of the younger for their guide attained an active development. Ad- 
ventures succeeded, that showed contemporary life in the country ; 



"ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN: 



439 



the family around the maid of Geierstein ; and, not least important, 
an ominous young man named Rudolph Donnerhugel, who inter- 
rupted the more susceptible traveller's meditations upon the moun- 
tain beauty, — in contemplation of whom he was growing to take no 
small dehght. The sentiments of the two young men became con- 
flicting, until at length they caused a duel. The combatants were 
parted by the landamman, and shook hands, but did not cordially 
agree. At about the same time, a deputation of the Swiss league 
assembled in the Castle of Geierstein to prepare a protest against 
encroachments and exactions then practised upon the Republic by 
the Duke of Burgundy, Charles the Bold, who is portrayed in 
" Quentin Durward." The Duke, through an agent, Archibald von 
Hagenbach, a fierce German robber-knight, stationed near Bale, 
was, according to Scott, seriously injuring the cantons. The pro- 
test was prepared, and sent with a delegation to that city. With the 
delegates went the two travellers. On the third day's travel they 
reached their destination. 

Before attention is withdrawn from Central Switzerland, it may 
be given briefly to a scene that no traveller should omit to 
examine, one not associated intimately with Scott, but another of 
those remarkable combinations of interest to which a tour through 
his lands almost necessarily leads. It is a panoramic view over 
Switzerland, similar in comprehensive character to that from 
Arthur's Seat over Edinburgh and its environs (pages 256-259), or 
from Eildon Hill (pages 298-301), over the Midland Border, — 
the vast landscape visible from the summit of the Pilatus, a moun- 
tain already mentioned in this chapter, or from the summit of the 
Rigi, a few miles distant across the Lake of the Four Cantons. 
The views resemble each other ; for they are varied chiefly by posi- 
tions not far separated, and are not surpassed by any national 
view, — for that they may be called. From scarcely another point 
can so much of the natural character and entire historical topog- 
raphy of a country be simultaneously seen. Indeed, they can 
hardly occupy attention too often, and may properly, before the 
route of this tour leads far from them, be sketched here. 

The panorama from the Rigi (or Righi, — Regiiia moiituiift) — 
a mountain during a longer time readily accessible and most visited — 
may be selected. More comforts than can be reasonably expected 
at such an elevation render the condition of visitors favorable for 
enjoymert of it. The summit is an open point, five thousand nine 



I40 ''ANNE OF geierstein:' 

hundred and five feet above sea level. The view thence sweeps 
around a circuit of almost three hundred miles, extending nearly 
one hundred and twenty miles to the Dole near Geneva, and, in 
an opposite direction, nearly eighty miles to the highlands beyond 
Bregenz on the Lake of Constance. Through the northward 
portions of the panorama stretch the broad, undulatory, diversified 
lower regions of the country, rich in prospects of rural life and 
agricultural industries : southward crowd mountains in groups or 
ranges. Along the north-western horizon are the distant, low- 
looking ridges of the Jura, and, towards the eastern, the nearer 
and greater heights of St. Gall, that begin to rise conspicuously 
as they extend farther eastward into the loftier ranges of Schwyz. 
Both of the latter present extents (visible also elsewhere) of the 
Alp-pasture lands, showing the prevalent pastoral life of the more 
elevated and retired cantons. Beyond these vast, bare, grassy hill- 
sides, and along the horizon, stand high, rocky peaks, — chief 
among them the pale-brown, massive Sentis of Appenzell. South- 
ward appear the snow and ice-crowned crests of the mountain 
glories of this wonderful land. There appear the sharp and 
crowded peaks of Glarus, over which dominates the great gabled 
ridge of Glarnisch. Towards the south-east stand loftier, and 
bolder, and nearer, the grand heights of Uri. Prominent in the 
territory of the two last-named cantons are the Todi (i 1,886 feet 
high), the Scheerhorn (10,814), the Riichen (10,296), the Grosse 
Windgelle (10,463), and the pyramidal Bristenstock (10,089). Be- 
side the last, deep in an unseen valley, winds the pass of the St. 
Gothard, traversed by one of those roads, among the marvels of 
the Alps and of engineering art, that triumphantly surmount the 
wildest and most forbidding of these regions. Near the south 
tower the magnificent forms of the Blakenstock (9,685) and Uri 
Rothstock, close together and not many miles from the Rigi. 
Westward of south appear the mountains of Unterwalden, with 
the grand, snowy, acute Engelberger Rothstock (9,251), the Sattel- 
istock, and the Titlis (10,620). Beyond, and almost south-west, 
shine the majestic heads of the mighty range of the Bernese 
Oberland, — first and loftiest, the sharp, beautiful pyramid of the 
Finsteraarhorn (14,026), — that dark peak of the Aar valleys ; next, 
the wild, cold, rocky spire of the Schreckhorn (13,394), — the peak 
of terror ; then, the acute Wetterhorn (12,149), — the storm peak ; 
and then, in prolonged succession, the white snow-cowled Monch ; 



''ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 44 1 

the huge Eigher, — the giant ; the brilliant and beautiful Jung- 
frau, — the maiden; the glittering Silberhorn, the Breithorn, and 
the broad Blumlisalp (12,041). Farther westward, through wider 
extent, rise point after point till the view has swept around to the 
dark, shattered crags of the towering Pilatus, and again reaches 
the dim Jura, Between these latter objects and the Rigi Kulm, and 
far below, appears at intervals the expanse of the most sublime 
Swiss lake, — that of the Four Cantons, one presenting examples 
of the beauties and the grandeur of all in the land ; and, on the 
other hand, at almost a mile of depth beneath, the smooth, slate- 
tinted surface of the Lake of Zug, — only air through the profound 
space between it and the grassy platform of the Kulm. In the 
foreground of the view, nearly east, is the site of the Bergfall in 
1806, so well known for the devastation that it spread over Goldau. 
And all these vast natural features of the country are animated 
by associations with almost the entire history of its people. A 
little west of north, where the river Reuss disappears among the 
hills, is the ancient Castle of Habsburg, — the Hawk's Castle, — 
"cradle of the house of Austria," built in 1020, whence Rudolph I. 
went to the imperial throne of Germany in 1273, and whence his 
son Albert sent oppressive bailiffs to the Forest Cantons, whose 
action aroused the war for freedom that ultimately caused the ex- 
pulsion of his family from rule — continued a century and a half — 
over the cantons. Southward, nearly in sight, is Griitli, where the 
three brave Swiss swore to expel the tyrants ; and the valley where 
Tell's exploits are said to have been done. North of east may be 
seen, over the Egeri See, Morgarten, where, Nov. 15, 131 5, was 
fought the Marathon of Switzerland. North of west, plainly in 
sight, is the field beside the Lake of Sempach, where, on July 19, 
1386, Leopold IL was defeated, and the Swiss gained "the second 
of those great and surprising victories by which " their " inde- 
pendence was established." Nearer northward, and directly beneath 
the Kulm, is the little chapel near Immensee that commemorates 
Tell, — whether or not to historic doubters a myth, the soul of 
Helvetic aspiration for liberty. Indeed this extended country is 
inscribed with the history of the republic from its birth, through 
all its vicissitudes until our times ; through early struggles for life, 
until victory over the Sonderbund in 1847, achieved on ground 
towards Habsburg, and until the peace and prosperity and union 
that now, and we trust long may, bless it. And besides all this 



442 ''ANNE OF geierstein:' 

interest from fact, the charms that genius creates invest the wide 
landscape. Southward, in "the Land of Tell," dwell memories 
of Schiller's verse and Rossini's harmonies ; westward are haunts 
of Manfred, where the resplendent Jungfrau rises a great monu- 
ment to Byron and his exquisite lines that tell the glory and the 
beauty of this Alpine land. Westward and nearer, around the 
base of the Pilatus and around the Saarnen See, are places that 
we associate with Scott and with Anne of Geierstein. 

The action of this story, again recalled, brought the two travel- 
lers with the Swiss deputies to Bale, or Basle, or Basel, as various 
persons may call it, — a place that every modern traveller in Switz- 
erland is supposed to visit. The party described in the story 
were refused by the magistrates admission within the city, and 
consequently sought shelter in the vicinity at an old hunting-seat 
named Graffs-lust, not now easily recognized. During the night, 
according to the custom and necessity of the times, a guard was 
posted around the building. One of the guard was the younger 
traveller, who solaced his loneliness by fond reverie on the maid of 
the mountains, from which he was startled by seeing pass from the 
castle, " in the broad moonlight, the living and moving likeness of 
Anne of Geierstein " herself! At another time he, as mysteriously, 
saw her. His astonishment and curiosity even induced him to 
make a confidant of Rudolph Donnerhugel, his former antagonist, 
then one of the party. He was rewarded by a narration of the 
history of her family. He learned that her paternal ancestors had 
been robber-lords, and that her mother had been the last female 
descendant of the powerful Barons of Arnheim in Suabia. These 
Barons, in addition to the martial character of men in their posi- 
tion, had profound scholarship in the mystic sciences, even in those 
deemed dark and forbidden. They entertained strange foreigners, 
from whom they sought to gain deeper knowledge. Among these 
were a Persian and a beautiful girl, — his daughter. She arrived 
mysteriously ; and was, after some delay, married by the Baron ; 
presented him with a daughter, and died — as mysteriously as she 
came. This daughter became the heiress of Arnheim, the wife of 
Count Albert of Geierstein, and the mother of Anne, as she was 
called by the Swiss among whom she lived, — Countess Anne, as 
she was called by the Germans. After this interview, the patrol- 
man in the castle informed the young men that he had seen this 
strangely descended maid leave and again re-enter the edifice. 



ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN: 



443 



Exigencies of the affairs of the two travellers obhged them, at 
daybreak, to continue their journey, that led them towards the 
Castle of La Ferette, of which Sir Archibald von Hagenbach was 
governor. He, rapacious and strong-willed, in the story at least, 
proposed to rob them. Aid, in this emergency, was unexpectedly 
rendered them by a person, mysterious enough for any mediaeval act 
or story, called the Black Priest of Saint PauFs, who emphatically 
warned the proud robber of awful retribution that would ensue the 
performance of this or certain other evil design. But the governor 
refused to heed the advice then, and the priest departed, saying, 
"with a menacing tone and frowning aspect," "And now, Archibald 
of Hagenbach, once, twice, thrice hast thou had warning : live as 
becomes a man on whom sentence is passed, and who must expect 
execution." This ominous injunction did not prevent the governor 
from examining the travellers, from imprisoning them in separate 
dungeons, and from depriving the elder of a sealed package ad- 
dressed to the Duke of Burgundy. The contents of this pack- 
age — that the governor opened — influenced him to order the 
execution of the captives, — a doom from which the younger was 
rescued by two persons who continuously grew more mysterious, — 
Anne of Geierstein and the Black Priest. The former, as usual, 
disappeared : the latter conducted the escape, — an adventure of 
some difficulty. The rescued traveller found and joined the Swiss 
delegates who were going to La Ferette ; for he intended to save, 
if he could, his companion. The party was, however, surrounded 
by some of the governor's troops, who, in turn, were overpowered 
by a multitude of young men of Bile, united with other people, all 
of whom were disaifected towards Hagenbach. They, also, took the 
proud and presumptuous officer prisoner, and soon executed him. 
The younger traveller was enabled to find his companion and the 
package of despatches ; and with these the two journeyed towards 
Strasbourg, after they had undertaken to procure for the Swiss an 
interview with the great Duke of Burgundy. 

La Ferette, where these events are represented to have occurred, 
appears to have been a combination of two or three places, eifected 
by romantic hcense, and will hardly be discovered now. Ferette — 
a town in the former French department of Haut Rhin, situated 
perhaps fifteen miles south-west from Bale — "has the ruins of an 
old castle." Hagenbach, however, according to Menzel, " was be- 
headed at Breisach, a.d. 1474." Alt Breisach, where he com 



4.44 ''ANNE OF GEIERSTEINr 

manded. was a great fortress on the east bank of the Rhine, about 
forty miles north of Bale. It was once called the "Key of Ger- 
many," and was strengthened by him. It belonged to Austria 
during most of four hundred years after 1331. A change in the 
course of the river impaired its strength and caused it to be dis- 
mantled. The chief object of interest now near its site is the 
minster of St. Stephen. But the portion of the story enacted at 
La Ferette can, according to the fancy of travellers, be imagined 
at more than one Rhenish ruin. 

Scott appears to have adapted some passages of history to the 
picturesque development of this romance, but he has vividly illus- 
trated the times that it describes without serious transmutations 
of facts, unless his treatment of Hagenbach be excepted by 
champions of the governor's character. Mr. Kirk, who has 
devoted many pages to this, states " that Hagenbach was a man 
of corrupt morals, we shall not deny or pretend to doubt. What 
there was in him of finer and gentler feeHng lay hidden be- 
neath the coarse manners and fiery passions of a Rhine knight 
of the fifteenth century, undiscernible by any but a friendly eye, 
until it glimmered forth, star-like, through the folding shadows of 
death." The same historian states that he was attacked at Alt 
Breisach, seized at the burgomaster's house, carried thence to 
Bale, and put to the rack in a torture-chamber "prepared in a 
building called 'the White Tower.'" Little was extorted from 
him, and he was, after form of trial, soon beheaded. Zschokke 
says that the Swiss "had really no cause of complaint against the 
Duke, except that his bailiff, Peter of Hagenbach, had shown him- 
self remiss in protecting Swiss merchants, when, on their journeys 
through Burgundy, they were maltreated by his people." 

The action of the story, after this portion, is generally quite 
closely conformed to history. Louis XL of France, after the 
exactions upon him at Peronne, mentioned on page 432, used his 
influence to persuade the Swiss to join him in attempts to humble 
Charles the Bold. They were induced to assist him, and events 
described hereafter in the story ensued. Scott's portraiture of the 
Duke, like that of his royal antagonist, is, in nearly all its features, 
very correct. 

The two travellers, on their route to Strasbourg, again met the 
seemingly ubiquitous lady of Geierstein. She appeared to be 
exclusively engaged in hawking, but awaited and used an oppoi- 



''ANNE OF GEIERSTEJN:' 445 

.unity to warn them of danger beyond, and to advise them to 
.;hange their route by crossing the Rhine. Accordingly, the 
founger traveller parted from the elder, and went on towards 
Strasbourg ; while the latter, pausing at a chapel, encountered 
;he Black Priest, who disclosed treachery intended by his guide, 
md accompanied him to the next village, where the priest van- 
shed, and the traveller obtained quarters at a strange, old inn, 
.vith the rudest of "accommodations " and the surhest of landlords. 
The merchant, after a dismal evening in a public supper-room, 
crowded by querulous and disagreeable people, — whose object of 
jest he became, — through influence of the Black Priest, who 
strangely as ever reappeared, at length obtained from the publican 
the unusual favor of exclusive use of a chamber. There he was 
enabled to continue, undisturbed, reflection upon affairs that occu- 
pied his thoughts ; and, also, to wonder at the peculiar influence the 
priest exercised over all around. One of those inexphcable por- 
tents of coming danger, that sometimes, like cloud-shadows, drift 
upon us, seemed darkening and threatening the purposes of the 
traveller. While, yet awake, he lay thinking, he felt that his bed 
was descending. He at once reahzed that it was spread upon a 
platform that was noiselessly moving downward, and roused him- 
self to encounter some peril that evidently attended his position. 
Instantly that the motion ceased he was seized by two ready men, 
who firmly secured him. Then, through the intense darkness, he 
beheld twinkling hghts advance from distant recesses, " borne 
by men muffled in black cloaks, like mourners at a funeral, or the 
Black Friars of Saint Francis's Order, wearing their cowls drawn 
over their heads so as to conceal their features." While they 
sang mystic songs, they performed even more mystic and awing 
rites. "The nature of the verses soon led" the traveller "to 
comprehend that he was in presence of the Initiated, or the Wise 
Men ; names which were applied to the celebrated Judges of the 
Secret Tribunal, which continued at that period to subsist in 
Suabia, Franconia, and other districts of the east of Germany, 
which was called, perhaps from the frightful and frequent occur- 
rence of executions by command of those invisible judges, the 
Red Land." He had now " some clew to the character and condi- 
tion of the Black Priest of Saint Paul's," and to the remarkable 
influence that he wielded wherever he was, evidently on account of 
a reputation of his high authority in the dreadful power and secrets 



446 "ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 

of the Vehm-gericht. The traveller felt that he was in the powei 
of that strong and seldom merciful tribunal, and that he was as " a 
pilgrim in the Valley of the Shadow of Death." 

Westphalia, we have been told, was the birthplace of this court 
of criminal justice, or vengeance, and the only country over which 
it exercised authority. During the Middle Ages, Westphalia was 
deemed to comprehend the territory between the Rhine, on the 
west, and the Weser on the east ; and between Hesse on the south 
and Friesland on the north. Through this region the tribunal — 
instituted at about the middle of the thirteenth century — con- 
tinued established for nearly three hundred years. Its character 
and modes of procedure have been variously represented. At first, 
it appears to have been organized chiefly to insure to its members 
some security and justice at a time when both were uncertain. 
Subsequently it became dangerous to honest men, and not im- 
probably an agency for obtaining private revenge. While some 
writers suppose that its proceedings were attended with less secret 
and solemn forms than those impressively represented by Scott in 
this story, he had confidence in his correctness. The subject had 
long been familiar to him. Indeed, noticeably, it is prominent not 
only in this, almost his last, work ; but also is portion of the 
ground-plot of his almost first publication — the drama of "The 
House of Aspen" — in 1799; and of his first considerable literary 
performance, — a translation of Goethe's " Goetz von Berlichingen." 
The scene of the former work is laid in Bavaria. The Vehm-gericht 
held formal meetings in numerous places, in towns or in castles of 
powerful lords. Several mediaeval structures in the Rhine-valley 
even now resemble the gloomy retreat in which Scott represented 
the traveller in this story. 

One of the most impressive, accessible, and consequently popu- 
lar of these is in the New Castle that directly overlooks Baden 
Baden. There, beneath elegant modern apartments commanding 
views of one of the most brilliant resorts of fashion and gayety, are 
some of the sternest and most dreadful of dungeons. The original 
approach to them is said to have been through a deep well ; now it 
is less abrupt and difficult. Dark, narrow, winding passages lead 
to gloomy cells, and to a torture-chamber, closed by massive stone 
doors, where a victim, beyond hearing or knowledge or rescue of 
die outer world, could be confined with pitiless inquisitors. In 
these once fearful recesses still yawn the profound oubliettes j and, 



'^ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 447 

for a long time, stood the iron maiden with knife-studded arms 
and bosom to enfold those condemned to her hardly less pitiless 
embrace. The terrors of mediaeval character and times appear to 
be there preserved to demonstrate what no mere written record 
could express. 

The traveller in the story was conducted before a secret court in 
the subterranean vault to which he had so startlingly descended. 
He was tried upon a charge of reviling the tribunal, and of enter- 
ing the "Red Land" to conspire against the prerogatives of the 
Vehm. Of the latter, he was acquitted. Then he was impera- 
tively admonished to maintain inviolable secrecy regarding all that 
he had seen or heard during his trial, and was returned to his bed- 
chamber by the same machinery that had taken him from it. On 
the next day he naturally went speedily on his way to Stras- 
bourg. 

Meanwhile his young companion, travelling by another route to 
the same city, received and accepted an invitation to visit Anne 
of Geierstein at the Castle of Arnheim, a residence that may not 
be found designated on any map of Rhenish country. There 
the mysterious maid appeared in her real rank and character, — 
Baroness of Arnheim ; and there the young traveller, impelled by 
his sentiments for her, revealed his own, — hitherto concealed for 
pohtic reasons, — and announced himself to her. Sir Arthur de 
Vere, son of John, Duke of Oxford, — his fellow-traveller. He 
declared his love for her, and was receiving in response her expla- 
nation of hitherto strange circumstances that had attended her, 
when the castle-steward warned them that an insurrection in a 
neighboring village compelled their departure from the castle. 

Pursued again by the turbulence of the times, they with risk 
escaped to Strasbourg, where they were obliged to part. There, 
however, Sir Arthur met his father, safe, and rested with him at 
the "Flying Stag" inn, a public-house not mentioned by Murray, 
and which Scott's description does not render enticing. The first 
visit that they made was the one that travellers would now make, 
to the wonderful cathedral, as almost everybody knows, rivalled 
by few, and famous for its elaborate, lace-like screens and spire, — 
four hundred and seventy-four feet high, — the highest in the world, 
commanding a wide view over the great plains of the valley of the 
Upper Rhine. The edifice, less than half a century before the 
time of the story, had attained its recent form. Masterpiece of 



448 ^'ANNE OF geierstein:' 

Erwin von Steinbach and of mediceval German art, it is one of the 
chief glories of the Pointed style. 

As the writer saw it, upon all the lofty front, around the door- 
ways, and on the pillars, were lavishly spread traceries and sculp- 
tures, with outlines clear and sharp, in dark-brown stone. Through 
the interior was dim and solemn light, richly toned by the deeply 
colored glass of gorgeous windows. Yet all this majesty of sacred 
art, with centuries of consecration, towering high towards heaven, — 
and, like one of its great patron saints, looking down upon the 
wide land, a mighty annunciation of peace and good-will on earth, — 
has, in our day, borne the scath of shell and shot in civilized 
man's most gigantic and most causeless duel ! The two travellers 
found the great church with its wealth of architecture new and un- 
harmed, and, four hundred years ago, gazed on nearly every feature 
that we, after them all, can now see. They found also, as we 
may now find, many beggars around its base. Among these they 
encountered a tall, remarkable woman, who solicited alms, and 
received them from the elder traveller. Her thanks were expressed 
in a voice that startled him ; and, during an interview that she 
sought, she astonished both the Englishmen by the story of her 
fortunes and extreme reverses, and the revelation of her name and 
rank, — Margaret of Anjou, " the dauntless widow of Henry the 
Sixth," distinguished victim of the Civil War of the Roses in 
England, unhappy wanderer from the land where she had worn 
a crown, and sad example of the fallen red rose of Lancaster. 
Few romances present more surprising scenes than the life of this 
brilliant woman. When she appeared at Strasbourg she was upon 
her forlorn journey through France, to seek, in her father's little 
court at Aix, near the southern border of that kingdom, a refuge 
denied her elsewhere, — " Anjou's lone matron in her father's hall,' 
" like Naomi . . . returned empty and desolate to her native land." 
This incident of her alms-taking may be as apocryphal as the 
words attributed to bhnd Behsarius, " Da obolum Belisario ; " but 
it has vivid dramatic effect. The fugitive Queen gave the Duke in- 
telhgence of new poHtical movements, that rewarded his kindness. 
They felt mutual sympathy for trials they had suffered in the vicis- 
situdes of a common party that had rendered both wanderers 
among strangers. The Queen departed for Aix ; the Duke and Sir 
Arthur remained at Strasbourg, where a pursuivant of Charles of 
Burgundy announced to them that he was prepared, by his lord's 



''ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN:' 449 

order, to conduct them to an audience at the Burgundian Camp in 
Dijon. That place they reached on the second day of travel, and 
there had an important interview with the bold Duke, — whose 
career from that time is described vividly by Scott. A result of 
the interview was, that Charles promised assistance for Margaret 
of Anjou; and, consequently. Sir Arthur, to aid her interests, — that 
he cordially served, — became more widely separated from one 
whom he loved on the Rhine, by being despatched to Aix. 

Dijon, now a large, flourishing town, a centre of wine trade, is 
passed by large numbers of travellers on the main railway line from 
Paris to Lyons, one hundred and ninety-six miles nearly south-east 
from the former, and almost as far south-west from Strasbourg. 
For centuries it was a residence and chief town of the lords of 
Burgundy, and even yet contains reUcs of their presence. Fortifi- 
cations, parts at least of a huge old castle, several remarkably rich 
churches, — particularly St. Bdnigne, the present cathedral, with a 
spire three hundred feet high, — and, in the principal pubhc place, 
the Place d'Armes, or Royale, the ancient palace of the Dukes 
and States of Burgundy, render it very interesting. In the old 
Rue de Forges, also, are, or recently were, the beautiful remains 
of the Hotel Chambellan, a town mansion built at about the time 
of the story, and such a building as some of the persons repre- 
sented in it might have seen or occupied. While the Burgundian 
army was stationed around the city, the Duke commanding went in 
great pomp to the palace to meet his Estates, or Parliament, for the 
chief purpose of obtaining certain suppHes. These, to his intense 
disgust, were refused him. While he was consequently excited, 
the Swiss deputies, who had been for some time out of the action 
of the story, presented themselves before him. Several of the 
wiser advocated peace ; but one — Donnerhugel — grew indis- 
creetly defiant. The reception and the session of the council 
became agitated, and the deputies were dismissed with threats by 
the enraged Duke. The tempest that finally burst upon him was 
gathering. His enemy, Louis XL, he heard was in league with 
England against him. He suspected that the Swiss would be in- 
duced to join the allies ; and accordingly, to attack them singly, he 
opened the campaigns disastrous and fatal to him. 

Sir Arthur de Vere reached Aix, capital of the domains of 
Queen Margaret's father, "good King Rend." This ancient city, 
fonnerly capital of Provence, is eighteen miles nearly north of 

29 



45o ''ANNE OF geierstein:' 

Marseilles. It now contains antiquities dating from Roman lo 
late mediaeval periods ; feudal walls ; narrow, quaint streets ; and 
mineral waters. In the Cours, the principal street, is a fountain 
that bears a statue, by David, "of le Bo7i Roi Rene, holding a 
bunch of Muscat grapes, the cultivation of which he introduced 
into France. During his reign Aix was a scene of gayety and 
luxury, and the seat of art and literature ; " " the resort of 
the troubadour ; the home of poetry, gallantry, and pohteness ; the 
theatre of the courts of love and of the gay fetes and tournaments " 
of chivalry. There may yet be seen the remains of the old royal 
town, and prominent in it the ancient cathedral of St. Sauveur, with 
its " restored " Baptistry. The spirit of the genial king and the 
orilliancy of the past seem, however, to have departed, and dirt 
and commerce in sweet oil to have occupied the place. Of its 
former life and aspect the novel gives admirable account. While 
Queen Margaret was there, endeavoring to persuade her father to 
resign his sovereignty, that he feebly held, into the hands of 
Charles the Bold, intelligence arrived of the Duke's defeat at 
Grandson (March 3, 1476) by the Swiss, whom he had attacked. 
She then desired Sir Arthur to rejoin his father, and the two again 
met. Her own career terminated suddenly, and affected plans of 
the Lancastrians in a manner that need not be told here, by her 
death in the ball-room at Aix, — a very effective scene in the novel, 
but one, we may believe, imagined by Scott. Subsequently Charles 
suffered a second and more severe defeat at Morat (June 22, 1476), 
after inteUigence of which the two travellers went to La Riviere, a 
small castle " in upper Burgundy . . . about twenty miles to the 
south of the town of Salins," states the novel. Thither Charles 
had retreated ; and there the two found him early in July, at first 
gloomy and disappointed, afterward preparing for another attack 
upon the Swiss. This was made at Nancy during the following 
winter, and was terribly decisive to him. Sir Arthur experienced 
also his part in the conflict, although his antagonist was only a 
single one of the same people, — Rudolph Donnerhugel, his rival, 
who encountered him and revived the repressed quarrel begun at 
Geierstein Castle, by charging him with dishonorable aspiration to 
the favors of the then acknowledged Baroness of Arnheim. The 
vindictive and jealous Swiss promptly challenged Sir Arthur. 
The rivals fought, and Rudolph was killed. One obstacle between 
the survivor and the object of his affection was thus removed ; but 



''ANNE OF GEIERSTEINy 45 1 

another presented itself peculiarly, in a consent by Count Albert of 
Gcierstein — the ever mysterious Black Priest himself — to a mar- 
riage of the lady who was influencing Sir Arthur's life, and who, 
through her innocent charms, had incited the fatal duel. The por- 
tentous count and priest was, however, leading in a greater affair, 
that, by a dark tragedy it caused, determined the fortunes of lady and 
of lover. Charles of Burgundy was startlingly, at night, summoned 
to appear before the bolder, stronger Vehjn. The Duke, justly, 
attributed the citation to the Priest, against whom he attempted 
his fullest vengeance. He refused to notice the order in any other 
manner than to endeavor the arrest of those who made it. But he 
had to learn, as lesser men had learned, and as others beheld, the 
terrible power he had defied. Upon the field of his final and utter 
defeat near Nancy, his plundered body was found lying dead, closely 
beside the hfeless form of the Black Priest, " as if they had fallen 
in the act of mutual fight, — the priest habited as a Ducal guards- 
man," "a disguise probably assumed to execute the fatal commis- 
sion of the Secret Tribunal." 

Contrasted with this gloom and destructive storm of war, bright- 
ened the fortunes of Sir Arthur and of the Rhenish Baroness, like 
sunlight across a heavy cloud, such as in all ages can beam from 
human hearts upon social darkness and turbulence, even although 
as sombre and wild as during the Middle Age. Out of adventures 
and dangers and intrigues, hopes and fears, merely mentioned in 
this chapter, grew reward and peace for a brave and faithful lover, 
and for the kind heart of the mountain maid, — the lady of Arnheim. 
Remnants of former wealth enabled Sir Arthur's father to obtain 
"a commodious residence near to Geierstein." There, undis- 
turbed by mediaeval disorder and peril, " the high blood, and the 
moderate fortunes of" the heroine of the story, and of him who 
gained her favor, "joined to their mutual inclination, made their 
marriage in every respect rational" and happy. Time glided on. 
Once more the star of Lancaster was in the ascendant. The exiles 
returned to England, — become to them a land of security, — " and 
the manners and beauty of Anne of Geierstein attracted as much 
admiration at the English Court as formerly in the Swiss Chalet." 



452 " THE talisman:' 

XLVI. 

"The Talisman." 

TivefUy-Jlrst Novel of the Series ; Written, 1824-25 ; Published ymte, 1825 ; 
A uthor's age, 54 ; Time of action, 1 193. 

FROM Aix, — the last place associated with "Anne of Geier- 
stein " that travellers may visit during this tour, — a very proba- 
ble course will be to Marseilles. Thence many persons depart for 
the East, and among them may be those who search carefully for 
the most distant portions of the Lands of Scott. Steamers of the 
" Messageries," or other company, can land explorers at Jaffa, port 
of the Holy Land, from which localities associated with "The 
Talisman " are most accessible. 

This romantic and heroic composition, second of the " Tales of 
the Crusaders," appeared in company with the first, "The Be- 
trothed," and has generally been considered superior to it. Few 
of Scott's prose fictions had a more enthusiastic greeting, we are 
told ; and his future literary plans were, indeed, " considerably 
modified in consequence of the new burst of applause which 
attended the brilliant procession of his Saladin and Coeur de 
Lion," whose two characters and opposed causes are portrayed 
in this work. Its stirring action is not only laid during one of the 
most animated periods of the Crusades, — the Third, — but its 
scenes also are in the Holy Land itself, amid the places and the 
conflicts distinguished in those wars. One will, however, be able 
to identify few of the locahties described in the romance. Most of 
them are imaginary, and yet are illustrative of those that witnessed 
the most extraordinary military and zealous manifestations of the 
rehgious enthusiasm of the Middle Ages. The same patriotic and 
national temperament, that caused Sir Walter to render so many 
of his works intensely Scottish, caused him to introduce promi- 
nently some fellow-countryman in nearly all those compositions of 
which the subject and localization were far removed from Scot- 
land, — as in " Quentin Durward," and as in this work. Its open- 
ing presents to us a Scottish Crusader, calling himself Sir Kenneth, 
the Knight of the Leopard ; who, according to the rank established 
in novels, is the hero of the work. He was, beneath "the burn- 
ing sun of Syria," "pacing slowly along the sandy deserts which 



THE TALISMAN. 



453 



lie in the vicinity of the Dead Sea," — a district known to many 
latter-day visitors to Jerusalem, that has tried their endurance, 
though not to the degree it tried that of the iron-strong warriors 
of the Red-cross. His refuge for the night was the cell of a hermit 
of Engedi, a man who, Hke most of the mediaeval characters that 
we know, had in his private life a mystery. 

Engedi was once a town " in the wilderness of Judah," about 
the middle of the western shore of the Dead Sea. " Here is a rich 
plain, half a mile square, sloping very gently from the base of the 
mountains to the water, and shut in on the north by a lofty promon- 
tory. About a mile up the western acclivity, and at an elevation of 
some four hundred feet above the plain, is the fountain of Ain Jidy, 
from which the place gets its name," and perhaps identical with a 
fountain described in the novel. The history of this spot reaches 
back nearly four thousand years into early Jewish times, and con- 
tinually suggests connection with sacred affairs. From the hermit's 
cell, Sir Kenneth was led to the chapel of a convent, — for monas- 
ticism had penetrated those remote regions. There among the 
devotees he recognized Lady Edith Plantagenet, a kinswoman of 
Knjg Richard of England and the heroine of the Tale. He also 
witnessed several curious acts by peculiar persons. The convent 
may reasonably be thought to have been that of St. Saba, situated 
about four leagues to the south-east of Jerusalem, and known to 
travellers for its massive and impressive character, and for its com- 
manding and picturesque position on lofty crags above the Kidron. 
It is said to have been founded twelve hundred years ago, and has 
long been one of the chief Greek monasteries in Palestine. Its 
size, intricacy, and strangeness render it a place in which almost 
any romantic incident might well be imagined. Thence the scene 
changed to the camp of the King, " then stationed betwixt Jean 
d'Acre and Ascalon ; and containing that army with which he of the 
Lion Heart had promised himself a triumphant march to Jeru- 
salem, and in which he would probably have succeeded, if not hin- 
dered by the jealousies of the Christian princes engaged in the 
same enterprise," " who, his equals in rank, were yet far his infe- 
riors in courage, hardihood, and military talents." The machinations 
and quarrels of these personages form no small part of the story^ 
in connection with the contrasted characters of the two great lead- 
ers, — Richard the Christian, and Saladin the Moslem, — and with 
the affairs of Sir Kenneth and the Lady Edith. At this camp 



454 



THE talisman: 



occurred most of the action of the Tale ; and, as that is rather to 
be read simply as an illustration of actors in the Crusades, with- 
out associations with topography, these pages need not present 
a sketch of the composition or a betrayal of secrets of its charac- 
ters. 

The objects that now illustrate the Third Crusade (apart from 
the incidents of this story, — most of which, their author informs, 
are fictitious) will be found few. Acre — strong and famous to 
our times, especially for withstanding the two months' attack of 
Napoleon I. — surrendered to the Crusaders two years before the 
events of the story. This victory, and that at Azotus, and many 
feats of chivalrous prowess, did not, however, cause the surrender 
of the Holy Sepulchre by the Moslems to the Christians. The 
Crusade virtually ended at Jaffa, scene of Richard's last Crusading 
battle and port from which he left Palestine. Then, as now, it was 
the sea approach to Jerusalem ; and, as such, it is now well known 
to travellers in the East. Its harbor is inferior. The town itself, 
not fascinating, is "built on a conical eminence overhanging the sea, 
and surrounded on the land side with a wall in which there are 
towers at unequal intervals." 

The object, called the Lee-penny, — from which the romance de- 
rived its name, — has long been kept by the Lockharts of Lee, in 
Scotland. Until very recently it was deemed possessed of miracu- 
lously curative powers, and even now may not have lost all that 
reputation. It was obtained in the Holy Land by a Scottish Cru- 
sader, Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee, ancestor of its latter holders, 
and in the following manner, Scott informs us : Sir Simon " made 
prisoner in battle an Emir of considerable wealth and consequence. 
The aged mother of the captive came to the Christian camp, to 
redeem her son from his state of captivity. Lockhart is said to 
have fixed the price at which his prisoner should ransom himself; 
and the lady, pulling out a large embroidered purse, proceeded to 
tell down the ransom, like a mother who pays httle respect to gold 
in comparison of her son's hberty. In this operation, a pebble 
inserted in a coin — some say of the Lower Empire — fell out of 
the purse ; and the Saracen matron testified so much haste to re- 
cover it, as gave the Scottish knight a high idea of its value, when 
compared with gold or silver. ' I will not consent,' he said, ' to 
grant your son's hberty, unless that amulet be added to his ransom.' 
The lady not only consented to this, but explained to Sir Simon 



COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS. 



455 



Lockhart the mode in which the Tahsman was to be used, and the 
uses to which it might be put. The water in which it was dipt 
operated as a styptic, as a febrifuge, and possessed several other 
properties as a medical talisman." "It is a stone of a dark-red 
color and triangular shape, and its size is about half an inch each 
side." It is set in what is supposed to be a shilhng of Edward I. 
The story represents it to have been a nuptial present sent by 
Saladin, on an occasion described at the end of " The Talisman " 



XLVII. 

"Count Robert of Paris." 

Twenty-eighth Novel of the Series ; fVritten 1S30-31 ; Published November, 1831 ; 
Azithor's age, 60; Time of actio7i, 1096. 

A FIRST, or an early suggestion or design of this work oc- 
•^-^ curred to Sir Walter Scott, while, during the winter of 
1826, he was reading old chivalrous chronicles, — particularly those 
of Jacques de Lalain. A romance, such as he then fancied, he 
deemed " would be hght summer work." The composition of it 
was, however, delayed for nearly five years, until the period when 
his gigantic struggles against misfortune had impaired his wonder- 
ful powers ; when the radiance of his genius was sometimes ob- 
scured ; when his work ehcited hitherto unused comment ; when 
sometimes he " showed a momentary consciousness that, like Sam- 
son in the lap of the Philistine, ' his strength was passing from 
him, and he was becoming weak like unto other men.' " " Then 
came the strong effort of aroused will ; the cloud dispersed as if 
before an irresistible current of purer air ; all was bright and serene 
as of old, — and then it closed again in yet deeper darkness." But, 
as Lockhart added, "who dares to say that, had he executed the 
work when he sketched the outhne of its plan, he might not h-jve 
achieved as signal a triumph over all critical prejudices as he had 
done when he rescued Scottish romance from the mawkish degra- 
dation in which 'Waverley' found it.''" Farther insight into the 
original conception of this work is perceptible in his " Essay on 



456 ''COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS'' 

Romance." The epoch of action chosen was "one that brought 
. . . the childish forms and bigotries, the weak pomps and drivelHng 
pretensions, the miserable plots and treacheries, the tame worn- 
out civilization of those European Chinese," — the Byzantines of 
the eleventh century, — " into contact with the vigorous barbarism 
both of western Christendom and the advancing Ottoman." After 
various interruptions, the work was completed in September, 1831, — 
on the twenty-third day of which he left Abbotsford on his last 
tour. It was published at the close of November, with " Castle 
Dangerous," as the Fourth Series of " Tales of My Landlord;" and, 
with the latter, formed the last issue of those immortal fictions 
named from the first of their number, and the last work, also, given 
to the world by the marvellously industrious, comprehensive, and 
fertile imagination of their author. It consequently must always 
possess interest apart from its intrinsic merits, that, although less 
than of his earlier works, rise above those of most other writers who 
have attempted to illustrate the affairs of the Capital and the people 
of the Eastern Empire. 

This story, like " The Talisman," is to be read for its general 
portrayal of people and affairs, rather than of particular incidents 
and individuals associated with certain places. In both works, the 
two of Scott's chief prose fictions most remote in time and locality 
of scenes from his own days and home, the actual hero is repre- 
sented to have been a fellow-countryman. The action of the story 
opens at Constantinople, to which Austrian and French steamers 
readily convey travellers from Jaffa, and at once introduces this 
person, Hereward, one of the Varangian Guard of the Emperor 
Alexius I., — a body of picked foreign mercenaries in his Majesty's 
more personal service. Hereward was strolling near the triumphal 
arch, decorated and gilded by Theodosius the Great, and hence 
called the Golden Gate. He there experienced the sentiment with 
which his corps was regarded by the people, and by men in other 
departments of the military service, who were jealous of its privi- 
leges and full of hatred for its personal prowess ; for there, at an 
unguarded moment, he narrowly escaped assassination. Thence, 
he went with his officer, Achilles Tatius, to the Blacquernal Palace, 
and was conducted into an extensive black-marble hall, — apparently 
the vestibule of correspondingly extensive imperial dungeons. His 
doubt whether these were to be the end of his unwonted visit to 
the edifice, was dispelled, only to be replaced by wonder, when 



''COUNT ROBERT OF PARISH 457 

he w.is at length introduced into a principal apartment dedicated 
to the special service of the Princess Anna Comnena, authoress of 
the " Alexiad " and historian of the reign of her father, the Emperor 
Alexius Comnenus. There he had the delightful honor and profit 
of hearing the learned and exalted lady read her account of mili- 
tary operations at Laodicea, where he had been in the thickest of 
the fight, of which he, as a faithful witness, had been summoned 
to give evidence. The passage read is described by the author of 
the romance as " a curious fragment, which, without his exertions, 
must probably have passed to the gulf of total oblivion." During 
the recital, Hereward listened to an account of the death of his 
})rother Edward, who fell bravely fighting for the Emperor. In 
acknowledgment of Hereward's relation to one so faithful, and of 
the interest he expressed in the history, the Princess gave him 
a precious ring. Next day, at an Imperial Council assembled 
in the Blacquernal, the arrival of the Crusaders — of the First, and 
perhaps most triumphant. Crusade — was announced. The event, 
like many descriptions and episodes of the story, is historical, 
apid fully described in records of fact. The more imaginary action 
of the story leads to a ruined temple of Cybele. There Hereward 
beheld some impressive remains of early Egyptian sacred archi- 
tecture. He was then with Agelastes, a Cynic philosopher, who 
afterwards, at the same place, appeared with Achilles Tatius, 
engaged in a conspiracy that became ultimately of no small im- 
portance. This scene was succeeded by one of historical character 
and significance, enacted outside the city upon a terrace above the 
shore of the Propontis, in which the leaders of the vast armies of 
the First Crusade, thus far in their march to the Holy Land, paid 
homage to the Emperor, who, surrounded by his splendid court 
and brilliant guards, received, with Oriental stateliness, the repre- 
sentatives of the partially civilized and wholly impassioned hosts 
of Western Europe. Conspicuous among the latter appeared, for 
the first time, the bold, insolent, half-savage Frank, whose name 
forms the title of this work. Seizing an opportunity, when the 
Emperor had stepped forward from his throne to do distinguished 
honor to one of the Crusading chiefs. Count Robert of Paris rushed 
to the vacant seat and defiantly occupied it, until he was withdrawn, 
quickly as possible, by a fellow-soldier. Affairs were such that 
Alexius, with politic restraint, "resolved to let the insult pass, as 
one of the rough pleasantries of the Franks." The Count cared 



45S ''COUNT ROBERT OF PARISH 

little for any effect of his act, and at his own time left the place, 
and returned to quarters provided for him in the city. There he 
was accompanied by Brenhilda, his Countess, an Amazonian woman, 
fit to mate and hold her own with one of his ferocious character. 
The story gradually involves them in the plots against the Emperor 
that were then contrived. At length, the Count at an imperial ban- 
quet, drank from a drugged cup. He became stupefied, and was 
carried to a menagerie at the Blacquernal Palace and placed in the 
den of a tiger. His fierce courage and tremendous strength were 
not, however, subdued by the poison or by the conflict that natu- 
rally ensued between him and the hardly more savage animal, 
which he at once encountered and speedily killed. 

Description of unremitting turmoil, that forms the succeeding 
action of the story, may be omitted here. Several of the most 
prominent actors in it have been mentioned, but the heroine. Bertha 
or Agatha, betrothed to Hereward, has not yet been introduced. 
She did not appear until a rather advanced period, when he was 
thoroughly startled by suddenly discovering her in peril in the 
gardens of the philosopher Agelastes. Her portrait — that of the 
last heroine dehneated by Scott — maybe reproduced here. When 
her lover discovered her, "she was arrayed in a dress which con- 
sisted of several colors, that which predominated being a pale 
yellow ; her tunic was of this color, and, like a modern gown, was 
closely fitted to the body, which, in the present case, was that of a 
tall but very well-formed person. The mantle, or upper garment, 
in which the whole figure was wrapped, was of fine cloth ; and the 
kind of hood which was attached to it, having flown back with the 
rapidity of her motion, gave to view the hair beautifully adorned 
and twisted into a natural head-dress. Beneath this natural head- 
gear appeared a face pale as death, from a sense of the supposed 
danger, but which preserved, even amidst its terrors, an exquisite 
degree of beauty." The story of course shows how strange vicissi- 
tudes of the times brought her and Hereward together, and also 
what befell them. This sketch need not illustrate more of their 
affairs, and may be rendered sufficiently complete by a few words, 
stating that all the scenes of the story are laid in or near the 
capital of the Eastern Empire. 

Constantinople retains few aspects or works that existed at the 
time of the story. The great landmarks of nature are, indeed, 
nearly the same ; but those of art have experienced great change. 



''COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS:' 459 

The most celebrated, and perhaps the best preserved, among the 
latter, is the huge church of Sta. Sophia, — huge both in real size and 
in the effect of its simply disposed parts, for it covers (says Mr. 
Fergusson) " nearly the average space occupied by a first-class 
French or English mediaeval cathedral," being 237 feet by 284, an 
area of about 67,000 square feet. It was erected by the Emperor 
Justinian about the year 532, and was restored about the year 1850 
by order of the Sultan, Abdul Medjid, under direction of the Cheva- 
lier Fossati. The interior is over a hundred feet wide and 182 feet 
high to the top of the central dome. The able critic just quoted 
says that " it may be safely asserted that, considered as an interior, 
no edifice erected before its time shows- so much beauty or pro- 
priety of design as this, and it is very questionable whether any 
thing in the Middle Ages surpassed it ... It is certain that no 
domical building of modern times can at all approach Sta. Sophia's, 
either for appropriateness or beauty. If we regard it with a view 
to the purposes of Protestant worship, it aflTords an infinitely better 
model for imitation than any thing our own mediaeval architects ever 
produced." The effect of this interior, in richness of detail and 
material, — in mosaics, gold, and precious marbles, — is similar to that 
of a more generally known but lesser edifice in nearly the same 
.style, — the church of St. Mark at Venice. Magnificent litho- 
graphic engravings by Mr. L. Haghe (London, 1852) give some of 
the best book illustrations of this architectural glory of the Greek 
Empire, and of its Turkish preservers. Many remarkable scenes 
and events have occurred in it. The adventures of the belhgerent 
Count Robert of Paris have, however, few associations with it. 
They have, very properly, many with the ancient walls on the land- 
ward side of the city, that extend nearly four miles, from the Pro- 
pontis or the Sea of Marmora to the " Golden Horn," across the 
promontory on which Constantinople stands, and that date from 
various early imperial times, and " are so lofty, that from the road 
which passes under them the eye can scarcely catch a glimpse of 
the mosques and minarets of the city. This melancholy aspect is 
heightened by several cemeteries, with dark cypresses and white 
marble tombs, that lie outside of the walls." Portions of the walls 
are in tolerable order, while other parts " present such magnificent 
and picturesque specimens of mural ruins as probably no other city 
can boast of." Modern purposes have doomed them, it is said, to 
the destruction that has effaced many other military restrictions to 



^5o ''COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.'' 

civic change. The Golden Gate, at which the action of this story 
began, and " so celebrated by the Byzantine writers, has been 
sought for in vain ; though a gate now wholly blocked up, with two 
mean pillars supporting a low arch, is sometimes shown to travellers 
for it." In the northern corner of the city, between the walls and 
the waters of the Golden Horn, stood the now destroyed palaces of 
the Blacquernal and the Hebdomon, occupied by the imperial fam- 
ilies during the decline of the Empire. Suggestions of the former, 
and of the tiger's den of the story, are to be found at two of the 
modern gates : " Balat Kapussi, i.e., the palace gate, formerly 
(3aai2,iK7], i.e., the Royal or Imperial gate, probably so called from the 
neighboring palace of the Blachernes ; " and " Haivan Serai Ka- 
pussi, i.e., the gate of the Menagerie, so called from the neighbor- 
ing amphitheatre, where the combats of the wild beasts used to 
take place." 

Another distinguished relic of the Eastern Empire is an isolated 
mass of buildings at the south-west angle of the city, called the 
Seven Towers, once an imperial castle and state-prison. " Three 
of the towers have entirely disappeared, and the whole building is in 
a state of dilapidation." The towers remaining are two hundred feet 
high. A fourth great relic is '''the cistern of Constantine, now called 
Binderik, or the thousand and one pillars ; and Yerebatan Serai, the 
subterranean palace." It is "in a quarter of the town anciently 
called Lausus. It has now the appearance of a suite of gloomy 
dungeons." " The roof of this reservoir . . . was supported by a 
double tier, consisting altogether of 424 pillars," now partly buried. 
"It was originally one of the immense cisterns or reservoirs made 
by the Greek Emperors, and always kept full of water by them, in 
case of a siege, though they have long been destroyed, or suffered 
to go to ruin by the improvident Mussulmans." A large portion of 
the Greek buildings havi been used as quarries by the same 
destructive people. 



FEE SIX LESSER TALES. 461 

XLVIIL 

The Six Lesser Tales. 

AMONG the Waverley Novels are six stories, shorter, and ot 
less interest and importance, than the other works with which 
they are associated. They are also less connected with historical 
events and characters, and with landscapes or objects now recog- 
nizable. 

In November, 1827, were published the Chronicles of the Canon- 
gate^ 1st Series, in 2 vols., containing three stories of this sort, 
numbering the 23d to the 25th of the general series, and entitled 
"The Highland Widow," "The Two Drovers," and "The 
Surgeon's Daughter." " The Highlajid Widow " originated in 
May, 1826 ; and is associated with the vicinity of the Bridge of 
Awe, that crosses the dashing river of the same name, in a deep, 
wild, and rocky mountain valley, beneath the frowning heights of 
Ben Cruachan, and on the road between the head of Loch Awe and 
Loch Etive, near Oban. This scenery may be visited during an 
excursion from the latter place, or on that portion of the tour 
described on pages 208-9. The story begins with " Mrs. Bethune 
Baliol's memorandum " of a short Highland tour, undertaken by her 
when the post-chaise was the vehicle of travellers. During this 
tour, she spent a morning " at the delightful village of Dalmally ; " 
whence she visited Kilchurn Castle, and Loch Awe head ; and then 
this scene around the bridge and glen of. the river Awe. " While 
we were thus stealing along " (she is supposed to have recorded), 
" we gradually turned round the shoulder of Ben Cruachan, and, 
descending the course of the foaming and rapid Awe, left behind us 
the expanse of the majestic lake which gives birth to that impetu- 
ous river. The rocks and precipices, which stooped down per- 
pendicularly on our path on the right hand, exhibited a few remains 
of the wood which once clothed them, but which had, in latter times, 
been felled to supply . . . the iron-founderies at the Bunawe. This 
made us fix our eyes with interest on one large oak, which grew 
on the left hand towards the river. It seemed a tree of extraordi- 
nary magnitude and picturesque beauty, and stood just where there 
appeared to be a few roods of open ground lying among huge stones, 
which had rolled down from the mountain. To add to the romance 



462 THE SIX LESSEE TALES. 

of the situation, the spot of clear ground extended round the foot of 
a proud-browed rock, from the summit of which leaped a mountain 
stream in a fall of sixty feet, in which it was dissolved into foam and 
dew. At the bottom of the fall, the rivulet with difficulty collected, 
like a routed general, its dispersed forces, and, as if tamed by its 
descent, found a noiseless passage through the heath to join the 
Awe. I was much struck with the tree and waterfall, and wished 
myself nearer them ; " and she was proposing close approach to 
them, when her guide dissuaded her by saying, "■ The place is not 
canny." Mrs. BaHol, whose attention was thus drawn to the spot, 
soon elicited its story, — that of " Elspat Mac Tavish ; or, the Woman 
of the Tree," who occupied a very small, poor, Highland hut, that 
once stood there. Her husband had been an outlaw, and she was 
the Widow of the story. Her son, Hamish Bean Mac Tavish, find- 
ing her temper violent, or, to say the least, disagreeable, left the 
hut one day when her excitability was specially displayed. It was 
some time before he returned, and then he was in the dress of a 
Highland soldier. Though filled with maternal joy at his return, 
she could not, after a while, repress her prejudices against the ser- 
vice he had taken. He was however able, without other trial than 
perhaps the apparition of a spirit, to rejoin his regiment ; and then 
a second time to visit his mother. Her feelings were then irre- 
pressible, and her desire to keep him at home — away from what 
she more than dishked — induced her to give him a sleeping 
potion to detain him when he was about to depart. Recovering 
from its effects, he discovered, when too late, that his leave of 
absence had expired by hmitation, and that he was liable to seizure 
and punishment as a deserter, — a fate that speedily befell him. 
A party of soldiers came to arrest him. Excited by the conflicting 
feelings caused by his position, he indignantly shot the sergeant, — 
an act that only rendered surer his seizure, and that caused his 
removal to Dumbarton, where he was tried and shot. The dis- 
consolate mother, after this tragic issue, resulting primarily from her 
conduct, wandered amid the scenery described in the story, hope- 
lessly insane ; and finally mysteriously disappeared. Neither 
search nor time gave intimation of her fate, and her unhappy form 
has, by some, been thought yet to haunt the glen in which she 
lived. 

T/ie Two Drovers., Robin Oig McCombich, a Highlander, and 
his friend Hugh Morrison, a Lowlander, are represented travelhng 



THE SIX LESSER TALES. 463 

southward from Doune, — a memorable place mentioned in " Wa 
verley," page 144. Near Carlisle, Robin met Harry Wakefield, an 
English drover, and quarrelled with him about pasturage for their 
cattle ; and ultimately stabbed him. For this crime Robin was 
tried at Carlisle, and found guilty. At the trial, the author repre- 
sents himself to have been present, " as a young Scottish lawyer . . . 
reputed a man of some quality." He heard the incidents that he 
describes, and especially, a very impressive charge by the venerable 
judge to the jury. The whole work appears like a personal recol- 
lection of Scott's professional life, — one of those stories that a 
legal man is apt to hear ; and one pecuharly illustrative of the con- 
dition, characteristics, and trials of the Highlanders, during the 
process of transformation from Caterans and Clansmen to competi- 
tors with their neighbors in the occupations of ordinary modern life. 
The Surgeon s Daiighter is a longer story, and has scenes laid 
m Southern Scotland and in India. " The principal incident on 
which it turns " — the introduction states — was narrated to the 
author, " one morning at breakfast, by his worthy friend, Mr. Train, 
of Castle Douglas, in Galloway, whose kind assistance he has so 
often had occasion to acknowledge in the course of these prefaces ; " 
and, added Scott, a " mihtary friend, who is alluded to as having 
furnished him with some information as to Eastern matters, was 
Colonel James Ferguson, of Huntly Burn." Mr. Train, it will be 
remembered, furnished to the great novelist much valuable material 
used in several of his works, as described on page 160. The story 
begins with description of an infant, and of his strange domestica- 
tion in the home of Dr. Gideon Gray, surgeon of Middlemas village, 
where he received the name of Richard Middlemas. This village 
was in the southern midland of Scotland, and may be represented 
by Selkirk, county town of the shire of which Sir Walter Scott was 
many years sheriff, and mentioned in the fifth chapter. There re- 
sided the prototype of the man this Richard became. In due time, 
he, and another youth, Adam Hartley, were apprenticed to Dr. 
Gray. Before very long time, however, the two companions 
quarrelled on a frequent subject of younger and elder masculine 
disputation, — a pretty girl ; in this case Menie Gray, daughter of 
their master. Richard left the village after this episode ; enhsted 
in Indian service, and, after a variety of tribulation, reached the land 
for which that destined him. Thus his adventures associate the 
name of Scott with distant places of the Eastern world. There 



464 THE SIX LESSER TALES. 

Hartley also appeared, and, in course of time, saw the fair cause of 
former dispute at a public breakfast, after which he obtained an 
interview with her. He, Richard, and the lady then led an ani- 
mated life in India ; involving the Surgeon's daughter in some 
trying affairs, and Middlemas in a tragic catastrophe. The local 
scenes of the story there are so far from usual routes, and withal 
so little distinctively suggestive of the author, that investigation of 
them here is hardly required. It may be enough to add that the 
story has an end very different from that of most novels, but never- 
theless one that is interesting, and some will think sensible. 

T^e Introductions to these Chronicles and to the separate stories 
composing them are capital. Mrs. Bethune Baliol and Mr. 
Chrystal Croftangry — personages in them — are among Scott's most 
living characters. The original of the former is said to have been 
Mrs. Murray Keith, an " excellent old friend," who abounded with 
legends, and possessed many of the best qualities of old age. She 
died about nine years before the Chronicles appeared. Scott added 
to this portraiture various features drawn from those of his own 
mother. Mr. Croftangry has been recognized as scarcely any other 
than his own edifying self. The topography also of these prelimi- 
nary passages is of no small interest ; for it relates to several of his 
own haunts, and one of the picturesque districts of his " own 
romantic town." 

During 1827, Sir Walter Scott began a second series of "Chroni- 
cles of the Canongate," — a continuation not approved by his pub- 
lishers. The three stories composing this series appeared in an 
annual pubhcation — showily engraved, but generally mildly writ- 
ten — called "The Keepsake," issued by Mr. Charles Heath. They 
formed almost the only contributions by Scott to such a work. 
The first story, issued in 1828, was entitled '^ My Aunt Mar- 
garefs Mirror.'^'' It pertained as n.uch to Edinburgh as perhaps 
to any place. The aunt, Mrs. Margaret Bothwell, is supposed 
to relate to her nephew the story of Sir PhiHp Forester, who, 
although a married man, was " the ' chartered libertine ' of Scottish 
good company, about the end of the last century," — the seven- 
teenth, — and was " renowned for the number of duels he had 
fought, and the successful intrigues which he had carried on." He 
left his wife. Lady Jemima Forester, in Edinburgh, and went 
to the Continent. During this absence, she, accompanied by her 
sister, Lady Bothwell, went to the house of a certain Paduan 



THE SIX LESSER TALES. 465 

doctor to see an Enchanted Mirror, capable of revealing strange 
and distant affairs. It showed its powers by revealing to the two 
ladies a clandestine marriage of Sir Philip, — an event afterwards 
proved to have occurred. The story is founded upon a tradition 
of Edinburgh respecting Lady Eleanor Campbell, who, at an early 
age, was married " to James, Viscount Primrose, a man of the 
worst temper and most dissolute manners." He even intensified 
his faithlessness by attempting to murder her. Their house, the 
original of Forester's, is " in a short alley leading between the 
Lawnmarket and the Earthen Mound, and called Lady Stair's 
Close. ... It is a substantial old mansion, presenting, in a sculp- 
tured stone over the doorway, a small coat-armorial, with the initials 
W. G. and G. S., the date 1622, and the legend, '■Fear the Lord, 
and depart frojn Evill.'' '''' Sir Philip afterwards appeared in dis- 
guise at an Edinburgh assembly, and was detected by Lady Both- 
well. After a brief but striking scene he escaped. It was sup- 
posed that he desired to ascertain if he could be safe in Scotland 
from the resentment of those he had injured, but found that he 
could not; accordingly he returned, it was conjectured, to the Con- 
tinent. And thus closed the tale of the Mysterious Mirror. 

Another story of the proposed second series is entitled " The 
Tapestried Chamber^'' and is, except the next named, the briefest 
and shghtest of all Scott's prose tales. It simply relates how 
General Browne visited Lord Woodville, and slept in a certain 
haunted room that had the name of the tale itself In this apart- 
ment he experienced a visitation from a ghostly " Lady in the 
Sacque," and learned as much of her as the reader can now find 
in the account Sir Walter has left of her. It is enough to remark 
here, that she was not the most fascinating companion conceivable 
for the time when she chose to make her appearance, and that she 
had an ugly history, all her own, to exhibit. 

The third and last of these tales is entitled " The Lai?'d's Jock:'' 
It simply narrates, on a few pages, how John Armstrong, Laird of 
Mangerton, an old warrior, called " the Laird's Jock," witnessed in 
Liddesdale a sort of "champion match" between his son and an 
English contestant, in which the former was vanquished. The 
actual scene of this match is said to have been Kessop Mill. 

Scott's last attempts to compose prose romance were at Naples 
earlj in 1832. There, although he was very ill, he persisted in 
spending several hours every morning, preparing "a new novel, 



^66 DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 

* The Siege of Malta,' and during his stay he neariy finished both 
this and a shorter tale, entitled ' Bizarre' " Neither of these have 
been published. Failing health and faculties were already depriv- 
ing his glorious genius of its powers, and a friendly veil was drawn 
over these final efforts. Perhaps his last idea respecting a new 
composition, in which, however, he made no executive progress, 
was one respecting Roman life, drawn from very ample materials 
placed at his service by their owner, — the Duke of Corchiano, 
whom he met at the Duchess Torlonia's palace. These materials 
abounded in historical curiosities respecting many of the great 
Roman families during centuries past. 



XLIX. 

Dramas and Ballads. 

THE Dramas written by Sir Walter Scott have been already 
mentioned in paragraphs scattered along these pages. Some 
additional notice of them, collectively, appears desirable, though it 
may be only brief. 

Many of his friends believed him capable of producing dramatic 
works of high character. Robert Southey, when Poet Laureate, 
wrote him : " I am verily persuaded that in this course you might 
run as brilHant a career as you have already done in narrative, 
both in prose and rhyme." Jeffrey's remark respecting " Ivanhoe " 
has been already quoted, that it " contains matter enough for six 
good Tragedies." Whatever may be thought of Scott's ability to 
draw these six from that source, or another, he himself appears 
neither to have fancied dramatic composition nor to have felt him- 
self fitted for it. In 1818, he wrote his friend Terr}^, the comedian : 
" Avowedly I will never write for the stage. ... I feel severely the 
want of knowledge of theatrical business and effect." Two years 
after, he wrote Allan Cunningham some practical notions respecting 
dramatic art that indicate supply of the want mentioned. Between 
the two dates, however, he wrote strongly to Southey, in reply to 
the opinion of that eminent judge already quoted : " I shall not fine 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 467 

and renew a lease of popularity upon the theatre. To write for low, 
ill-informed, and conceited actors, whom you must please, for your 
success is necessarily at their mercy, I cannot away with. . . . 
Besides ... I do not think the character of the audience in Lon- 
don is such that one could have the least pleasure in pleasing them." 
Describing such an auditory more severely than he was accustomed, 
he added, " I would far rather write verses for mine honest friend 
Punch and his audience." Almost his first original work was, how- 
ever, a drama. The German studies in which he was engaged at 
the period of its composition explain its creation. It is, indeed, 
little more than a literary exercise. It was executed in 1799, during 
his twenty-eighth year, but was not published until sent " to one of 
the literary almanacks (the Keepsake of 1829)." It is entitled " The 
House of Aspen." Its character is influenced by that of the 
drama, " Goetz von Berhchingen," that he translated during the same 
year from the original, by Goethe, and has been alluded to in the 
chapter on " Anne of Geierstein " for the subject of its chief interest, 
the operations of the Secret Tribunal of the Vehm Gericht. The 
scenes are " The Castle of Ebersdorf in Bavaria, the ruins of 
Griefenhaus, and the adjacent country." It must be confessed that 
greater associations than those of this drama are attached to the 
name " Ebersdorf," (a village on the Danube below Vienna), since 
it became a scene of the tremendous conflicts between Austria and 
the First Napoleon, in 1809. The word " Aspen " suggests a change 
of the name of a village celebrated in a similar manner, — that of 
Aspern. Griefenhaus may be considered Greifenstein (Grifiin- 
stone), a picturesque, ruined castle perched on a high sandstone 
rock, a few miles above Vienna, upon the same river. There is an 
imposing Donjon-keep, the view from which is striking, embracing 
as it does " the forest-clad banks of the Danube, and its feudal 
castles at intervals overlooking it." Thus, in pleasant places around 
the distant and brilHant capital of the Imperial and Royal dominions, 
are suggestions of the early growing power of the Wizard of the 
North. 

Scott's next dramatic productions, chronologically, were entitled 
" Mac Duff''s Cross " and " Halidon Hill ; " the former appearing, 
in 1823, in Joanna Baillie's " Collection of Poetical Miscellanies," and 
the latter in June, 1822. Neither are extraordinary works. Lockhart 
informs us that " Scott threw off these things ciirretite calamo j he 
never gave himself time to consider beforehand what could be made 



468 DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 

of their materials, nor bestowed a moment on correcting them after 
he had covered the allotted quantity of paper with blank verse ; and 
neither when they were new, nor even after, did he seem to attach 
the slightest importance to them." " Mac Duff's Cross " is a 
very brief work, showing but four persons. Its scene is " the sum- 
mit of a rocky pass near to Newburgh, about two miles from the 
ancient Abbey of Lindores, in Fife," — a height " which commands 
the county of Fife to the southward, and to the north the windings 
of the magnificent Tay and fertile country of Angus-shire." The 
" Cross and Law of Clan Mac Duff" rendered the former a refuge 
to any person related to the clan " within the ninth degree, who, 
having committed homicide in sudden quarrel, should reach this 
place, prove his descent from the Thane of Fife, and pay a certain 
penalty." On this legend, the action of the drama was founded 
The pedestal of the cross, it is said, yet remains, about a mile from 
the Tay, at the place described. It may be easily found by those 
who visit the scenery of the " Fair Maid of Perth." 

" Halidon Hill ; a Dramatic Sketch from Scottish History," is 
perhaps the best of these dramas, and is one of the longest. It 
contains fine passages. The story on which its action is founded, 
Scott said, " was to me a nursery tale, often told by Mrs. Mar- 
garet Swinton, sister of my maternal grandmother ; a fine old lady 
of high blood, and of as high a mind, who was lineally descended 
from one of the actors." The drama was indeed written currejite 
calamo, having been produced " in the course of two rainy morn- 
ings." It was found too long for a more private use for which it 
w^as originally undertaken, and was published in June, 1822, by 
Messrs. Constable, who purchased it, also "without seeing the 
MSS., . . . for ^i.ooo . . . the sum that had appeared almost irra- 
tionally munificent, when offered in 1807 for the embryo ' Mar- 
mion.' " And the firm was pleased " with this wild bargain." Thus 
much for the " market value " of an " established reputation ! " 

The scene of this drama is the " eminence of Halidon," mentioned 
(page 344) as easily accessible during the passage " from Scotland 
to England." It is approached by a gradual ascent from the river 
Whitadder or the Tweed, and is a considerable height that com- 
mands a view over much of the country around Berwick. The 
battle for which it is celebrated was fought, in 1333, between English 
forces and a Scottish army commanded by the Regent Douglas, 
and resulted in the severe defeat oi the latter. 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 469 

"The Doom of Devorgoil" had its origin in 18 17, when, after 
a serious illness, Scott " beguiled the intervals of his suffering by 
planning a dramatic piece on a story supplied to him by one of 
Train's communications " (page 161), — a piece " which he desired 
to present to " his friend Terry, the actor, on behalf of a son christ- 
ened Walter Scott Terry. During the next year the author made 
some progress in this piece ; but it was not pubhshed until 1830, 
when it appeared in an octavo volume with his last drama, " Auch- 
indrane." The scenes of " Devorgoil " are laid in Galloway, but 
are not definitely localized. The plot is founded on a family tradi- 
tion of considerable age, and is amply and well illustrated in the 
drama. 

" AUCHINDRANE, or the Ayrshire Tragedy," is a work apparently 
suggested to Scott by perusal of a case relating to one Mure, of 
Auchindrane, in 161 1, reported in Pitcairn's " Ancient Criminal 
Trials," a portion of which he was reviewing in 1830. He " was so 
much interested with these documents, that he resolved to found a 
dramatic sketch on their terrible story ; and the result," says Lock- 
hart, " was a composition far superior to any of his previous attempts 
of that nature. Indeed, there are several passages," in this work, 
" which may bear comparison with any thing but Shakspeare." The 
opening scene is " A rocky Bay on the Coast of Carrick, in Ayr- 
shire, not far from the Point of Turnberry," near which the entire 
action is represented. During an excursion from Glasgow to 
Ayr and " The Land of Burns " (pages 118 and 187), this locality 
may be easily reached, south of Ayr. It will, also, then be possible 
to ascertain why topographical works are remarkably reticent 
regarding Auchindrane Castle mentioned in the drama. The same 
region is also rendered interesting by associations with the landing 
of Bruce, told so spiritedly in the Fifth Canto of " The Lord of the 
Isles " (pages 117, 118). Turnberry Point bears the slight ruin of 
a castle of the same name, connected with the event. Near it are 
Culzean Castle, the stately seat of the Marquis of Ailsa, Cross- 
raguel Abbey, yet beautiful in decay ; Shanter farm, where lived 
famous Tarn ; and Maybole, containing an imposing Baronial relic 
partly ruined. 

Scott's Ballads, and other short poems, seem like flowers 
scattered by his lavish genius through the pleasant places of Britain, 
where they grow with a perennial bloom, and the perfume of de- 



^7o 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 



lightful associations, — abundant, fresh, and graceful, as indigenous 
productions of nature. Arrangement of them by time or place is not 
easy, or, indeed, needed. They can be found everywhere, bright- 
ening the route of the imaginary tour traced in the past chapters. 
To the English Lake District belong the lines beginning, — 

" I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty HellvelJyn," 

that tell a story, versified also by Wordsworth, relating the fate of 
a young man who was lost on the mountain, and suggesting the 
risks of a walk (page 95) — worth taking — along a sharp, ascend- 
ing ridge, " Striding Edge." Near Gilsland, and remains of the 
great mural fortification of Severus, we recall the poetic offering 
" To a Lady, with Flowers from the Roman Wall," quoted on page 
172. Near Glasgow, at Both well Castle (page 197), are associations 
with a ballad written by Scott during a visit to the great ruin in 
1799, and named from it. A few miles nearly south-east, not far 
from Hamilton (page 197), are the romantic remains of the ancient 
seat of the ducal family of that name, scene of one of his best 
ballads, called, like it, Cadyow Castle, and beginning, — 

*' When princely Hamilton's abode 
Ennobled Cadyow's Gothic towers, 
The song went round, the goblet flow'd, 
And revel sped the laughing hours." 

In the district of " The Lady of the Lake," near scenery of " The 
Chase," is the long, lone valley of Glenfinlas (pages 54 and 203), that 
gives title to a well-known ballad, first published, in 1 801, in " The 
Tales of Wonder." It is sometimes called " Lord Ronald's Coro- 
nach," and begins, — 

" O hone a rie' ! O hone a rie' ! 
The pride of Albin's line is o'er, 
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree ; 
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more I " 

Far among the Highlands, in perhaps the grandest valley of 
Scotland, is suggested the poem " On the Massacre of Glencoe," 
written in 18 14, and relating to one of the most wanton and brutal 
acts of modern British history, — the murder under government 
auspices, in 1692, of the Macdonalds : — 

" Then woman's shriek was heard in vain : 
Nor infancy's unpitied plain, 
More than the warriors groan, could gain 
Respite from ruthless butchery 1 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 47I 

The winter wind that whistled shrill, 
The snows that night that cloaked the hill, 
Though wild and pitiless, had still 

Far more than Southern clemency." 

Through the recesses of Craig Royston and Glenfalloch, the 
fitful winds seem to sound the stirring measure, and bear the weird 
spirit of " Macgregor's Gathering " (page 186), — 

" The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, 

And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day ; 

Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach ! " 

Farther north, around Ben Nevis, echoes the " Pibroch of 
Donald Dhu," — 

" Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 
Pibroch of Donuil, 
Wake thy wild voice anew. 
Summon Clan-Conuil. 

Come away, come away, 

Hark to the summons I 
Come in your war array, 

Gentles and commons. 

Come from deep glen, and 

From mountain so rocky, 
The war-pipe and pennon 

Are at Inverlocky." 

This was the great field of victory of the famous Marquis of 
Montrose, an important scene in the " Legend " bearing his name, 
and the field to which the Pibroch is represented to have summoned 
the Macdonalds, more than two centuries before his time, when 
they triumphed over the Earls of Mar and Caithness. Near scenery 
of " The Highland Widow," and also of the " Legend," by Oban, 
comes to mind another short poem, " Nora's Vow," written (1816) 
for " Albyn's Anthology : " — 

" Hear what Highland Nora said, — 
' The Earlie's son I will not wed,' — 
' The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn, 
Ben Cruaichan fall, and crush Kilchum ; 
Our kilted clans, when blood is high, 
Before their foes may turn and fly ; 
But I, were all these marvels done. 
Would never wed the Earlie's son.' " 

" Ben Cruaichan stands as fast as ever. 

Still downward foams the Awe's fierce river ; '* 
" But Nora's heart is lost and won, 

— She's wedded to the Earlie's son I " 



472 DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 

Among the distant northern isles of Zetland, in the Sound of 
Lerwick, Scott's " strong and easy heroics " tell the wonders of sea 
and shore in a poem (dated 8th August, 1814, during his voyage in 
the Lighthouse yacht, mentioned on page 102) addressed to His 
Grace the Duke of Buccleuch, and beginning, — 

" Health to the chieftain from his clansman true ! 
From her true minstrel, health to fair Buccleuch 1 " 

Claud Halcro's song in " The Pirate " is of the same region : — 

" Farewell to Northmaven ; 
Gray Hillswicke, farewell!" 

and his address to Noma : — 

" Mother darksome, Mother dread: 
Dweller on the Fitful-head ; " 

and, also, the " Song of the Zetland Fisherman : " — 

*' Farewell, merry maidens, to song and to laugh, 
For the brave lads of Westra are bound to the Haaf ; 
And we must have labor and hunger and pain, 
Ere we dance with the maids of Dunrossness again." 

Scott has spread through his novels poetic garlands that give 
charms to many scenes not celebrated by the incidents of the 
stories. Among the clouded, weird, heath-grown wildernesses of 
the Highlands, we think of Flora Maclvor's song in "Waverley," 
part of which is given on page i86 : — 

" There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale ; " 

and the 

" Farewell to Mackenneth, great Earl of the North, 
The Lord of Lochcarron, Glenshiel, and Seaforth ; " 

or the verses (in the Anthology, 1818) : — 

" Donald Caird's come again ! " 

In the southern Lowlands, among scenes familiar and delightful 
to Scott through his life, are more frequent suggestions of his bal- 
lads and minor poems. A house " upon the barony of Gilmerton," 
said now to be called Gilmerton Grange (originally Burndale), was 
the scene of a tragic adventure (before 1550), told in his contri- 
bution to the " Minstrelsy," entitled " The Gray Brother," pro- 
duced during his twenty-eighth year (1799). It contains passages 
that disclose the growing power by which he rendered mere topog- 
raphy bewitching, as the following verses will show: — 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 473 

" Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet I 
By Eske's fair streams that run, 
O'er airy steep, through copsewood deep. 
Impervious to the sun. 

There the rapt poet's step may rove, 

And yield the Muse the day ; 
There Beauty, led by timid Love, 

May shun the tell-tale ray ; 

From that fair dome, where suit is paid 

By blast of bugle free. 
To Auchendinny's hazel glade. 

And haunted Woodhouselee. 

Who knows not Melville's beechy grove, 

And Roslin's rocky glen, 
Dalkeith, which all the virtues love, 

And classic Hawthornden? " 

Near scenery of " The Black Dwarf" and " St. Ronan's Well ' 
is Neidpath Castle, where lived " The Maid of Neidpath," of whose 
love and of whose sad death at Peebles he wrote. Smailholme 
Tower, haunt of his childhood and scene of " The Eve of Saint 
John," is described on pages 313-15 ; and on page 310 Cauldshiels 
Loch, associated with his plaintive lines, — 

" The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, 
In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet." 

In the same region is the Rhymer's Glen (page 310), where, on 
" Huntlie Bank," prophetic " Thomas lay, like one awakened from 
a dream ; " and " Tweed River," along which linger the unearthly 
songs of the mystic White Lady of Avenel. Far on the southern 
border, his lines, composed in 1799, tell us to "Go sit old Cheviot's 
crest below ; " and at Harden, a scene in the " Lay," is recalled 
the story of the "Reiver's Wedding," written in 1802. In the 
great hill-country westward is still the animating influence of 
the old war-call : — 

" March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, — 
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, 
All the blue bonnets are bound for the border." 

And in the same wild region is many a lonely spot that might be 
imagined the scene of "The Shepherd's Tale" of Covenanter's 
Trials, — 

" In persecution's iron days, 
When the land was left by God : " 



474 DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 

or of a very different stor}^, — the elopement of a " ladie " " wi' 
Jock of Hazeldean ; " or the week's shooting and fishing, after 
which Scott wrote the lines, — 

" On Ettrick Forest's mountains dun 
'Tis blithe to hear the sportsman's gun." 

At the confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow is a spot cele- 
brated in a song written in 1815, published in 1826 "with Music in 
Mr. G. Thomson's Collection," and entitled " On the Lifting of the 
Banner of the House of Buccleuch, at a Great Foot-ball Match on 
Carterhaugh." The chorus is very spirited : — 

" Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, 
She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more ; 
In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her, 
With heart and with hand, like our fathers before." 

The " English novels " in the Waverley series contain much 
excellent poetry, but not many passages that have definite local 
associations. Chepstow Castle in South Wales was the scene of 
a ballad, — "The Norman Horse-shoe." An old cathedral city in 
North Wales was, also, scene of another short poem on an event 
too characteristic of early Christian times in Britain, pathetically 
yet powerfully told in "The Monks of Bangor's March," begin- 
ning, — 

" When the heathen trumpet's clang 
Round beleaguer'd Chester rang. 
Veiled nun and friar gray 
March'd from Bangor's fair Abbaye ; " 

and closing with recital of " the long procession's " tragic end : — 

" Bangor ! o'er the murder wail 1 

Long thy ruins told the tale." — 
" Never shall thy priests return ; 

The pilgrim sighs and sings for thee, 
O miserere, Dotnine ! " 

Wide as the lands of Scott, indeed, are spread attaching memo- 
ries of his verses. St. Cloud suggests those written at Paris, Sept. 
5,1815: — 

" Soft spread the southern summer night 
Her veil of darksome blue : 
Ten thousand stars combined to light 
The terrace of Saint Cloud." 



DRAMAS AND BALLADS. 475 

The Dance of I 
how 



The Dance of Death " over Belgian grain-fields brings to mind 



" Night and morning were at meeting 
Over Waterloo." 

A spirited and " literal translation of an ancient Swiss ballad 
upon the battle of Sempach, fought 9th July, 1386," and the. crown 
ing victory of the Swiss war for independence, reanimates the 
shores of the lake that gave name to the action. 

It is hardly possible, however, to mention in this chapter even 
the names of all the flowers of verse with which Scott's imagi- 
nation has rendered many a spot more lovable ; or to refer, except 
collectively, to those charming passages of his " anonymous " 
verses of "old plays," or "old ballads," mottoes to chapters of his 
prose fictions, that disclose so much of his inner feeling and life. 
His numerous miscellaneous poems, also, do not require here detail 
of description, although worthy of it in any form of essay upon his 
works. The quantity and the quality of these is surprising. One 
of them may be named for a peculiarity : it is " The Search after 
Happiness ; or, the Quest of Sultaun Solimaun," a long compo- 
sition that is one of the very few by Scott containing an Irish 
character, — a species that appears to have been no greater favorite 
with him than with Shakspeare. Another poem, that appeared in 
1822, when George IV. visited Edinburgh, shows many features 
of Scott's nature. It is headed "Carle, now the King's come, — 
being new words to an auld spring," and tells with great spirit how 

" The news has floun frae mouth to mouth, 
The North for ance has bang'd the South ; 
The deil a Scotsman's die o' drouth ; 
Carle, now the King's come ! " 

It may, indeed, be considered an adequate representative of 
Scott's minor poems, as well as of his tastes, disposition, and prin- 
ciples ; abounding as it does in legend, history, topography, pomp 
and stir, intense Scotticism and his pohtical behef, — toryism, 
quite Hkely ; but, nevertheless, sturdy loyalty that any man may 
honestly feel for the embodied authority of his country, — a loyalty 
that, through life, animated Scott. 



^^6 HCOTTS LIFE AND CHARACTER. 



L. 

Scott's Life, i8 16-1832 ; His Character. 
The End. 

THE history of the last sixteen years of Scott'5 life has already 
been partly told or illustrated as the course of the imaginary 
tour has been traced in this book. His chief home during this 
period, Abbotsford, has been described between the 301st and 
312th pages. Places with which he was most intimately associated 
in his "own romantic town," Edinburgh, are mentioned in the 
twenty-ninth chapter, and similar localities in London on pages 417 
to 420. The region to which he made his last long excursion in 
Scotland (July, 1831) is, with his journey, sketched on pages 200 
and 201. 

The story of his last earthly resting-place, Dryburgh Abbey, is 
told on pages 316 to 321 ; of his great memorial cross at Edin- 
burgh on pages 261 to 263 ; of the monument to his memory at 
Selkirk on page 294; of that at Glasgow on page 187, and of that 
at Perth on page 235. 

While the chapters that precede this final one have contained 
accounts of the scenery and objects chiefly associated with his life, 
and with his compositions, some comprehensive and yet brief re- 
view is wanted of the culminating period of his career. And this 
retrospect may be made here, before some parting thought of both 
his genius and his character. 

The year 18 16, Mr. Lockhart informs us, has, in Scott's life, 
" left almost its only traces in the successive appearance of nine 
volumes, which attest the prodigal genius, and hardly less astonish- 
ing industry, of the man." Early in January were published in an 
octavo, " Paul's Letters to his Kinsfolk," shaped mostly from those 
written by Scott to his family, during his tour on the Continent in 
18 15, and relating to contemporary European affairs. In the spring, 
Mr. Terry, the actor, produced a dramatic rendering of "Guy 
Mannering," that " met with great success on the London boards." 

"The Antiquary" (Chapter xxvi.) was published in three vol- 
umes during May. At this time he was occasionally composing 
passages of " Harold the Dauntless " (Chapter xv.), " which he 
seems to have kept before him for two years as a congenial play- 



SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 477 

ihing, to be taken up whenever the coach brought no proof-sheets 
to jog him as to serious matters." He had also " undertaken to 
write the historical department of the ' Edinburgh Register ' for 
1814." This "sketch," occupying three hundred and sixty-four 
pages, large octavo, appeared in October, 18 16. During the spring, 
"he felt no hesitation," Mr. Lockhart continues to inform us, 
"about pledging himself to complete . . . four new volumes of 
prose romances, and his ' Harold the Dauntless ' also, . . . be- 
tween the April and the Christmas of 18 16." The former works 
appeared on the first of December, under the general title of the 
"Tales of my Landlord, First Series," consisting of "The Black 
Dwarf" (Chapter xxxii.) and " Old Mortality " (Chapter xxii.). 
Mr. John Murray (the publisher at London) has recorded the effect 
that the latter produced on him and on metropolitan literary author- 
ities. " I believe," he wrote to Scott, " I might, under any oath 
that could be proposed, swear that I never experienced such un- 
mixed pleasure as the reading of this exquisite work has afforded 
me. . . . Lord Holland said, when I asked his opinion : ' Opinion ! 
we did not one of us go to bed last night, — nothing slept but my 
gout.' Frere, Hallam, Boswell [Jr.], Lord Glenbervie, William 
Lamb, all agree that it surpasses all the other novels. Gifford's 
estimate is increased at every perusal. Heber says there are only 
two men in the world, — Walter Scott and Lord Byron." 

But sufficient account has already been given in these chapters 
of the wonderful industry and creative power of Scott. His position 
as an author and as a man at this time may be enough to describe 
here ; and then, more briefly, the story of the closing of his career 
may be told. 

Scott had attained rank among the most distinguished poets 
of Britain, and in popular estimate was the second of those living. 
His greater poems had become well known by the world. He was 
the supposed, perhaps the almost universally supposed, "Great 
Unknown " and " Author of ' Waverley.' " That remarkable work of 
fiction had created a new era in romantic literature. " Guy Man- 
nering," " The Antiquary," and two " Tales of my Landlord " were 
perpetuating the interest aroused by the event. His historical 
compositions had recognized value. His zeal, labor, knowledge, 
and productions in departments of antiquarian research, had great 
and appreciated merit. In law, offices, and the various business of 
life, he was active, honest, respected. In society, from royalty to 



178 SCOTT 8 LIFE AND CHARACTER. 

peasantry, from highest culture to humblest quality, he had scarcely 
a rival. He was indeed a man among men. In domestic Hfe he 
was happy. His town home (page 260) was pleasant : his country 
home, Abbotsford, was growing slowly in size and interest and 
architectural character ; " looking pretty at last," as he wrote (to 
Mr. Terry, November, 1816), "and the planting is making some 
show." " All our family are very well," he wrote in the same let- 
ter, — " Walter [then fifteen] as tall nearly as I am, fishing salmon 
and shooting moor-fowl and black-cock, in good style ; the girls are 
growing up, and, as yet, not losing their simplicity of character ; 
little Charles [then eleven], excellent at play, and not deficient in 
learning." His children were four in number. Sophia (afterwards 
Mrs. Lockhart) was then aged seventeen ; Anne (whose tender care 
for her father during his long final illness is mentioned on pages 
404 and 408) was then aged thirteen. 

Sketches, slight although they may be, of his life, and especially 
of his literary life, appear in the chapters of this book that relate 
to the works of imagination that he produced during the last six- 
teen years of his labors, his busiest and perhaps his best. The 
names, and something of the forms, of the long and marvellous 
procession of his creations through that period have thus been 
presented, and many places that they still seem to animate have 
been shown. From one success to yet another, social, financial, 
literary, he went on. Esquire and sheriff became Baronet. Fortune 
for good estate and comforts of a domestic, a not too elevated 
public, life of lawyer and of author, grew to fortune of the lord 
who owned broad acres, and an ample Hall filled with the hospital- 
ities of wealth, refinement, and a generous heart, — to fortune of 
his fancy and his aspirations : that of a titled, landed, established 
family, — to fortune, unknown before him, of the millionnaire grown 
rich from gatherings on that Parnassus once esteemed so barren, 
though so glorious. The " romance in lime and stone " that seemed, 
and yet seems, to embody all this, grew from the " least of all possi- 
ble dwelHngs," as he called it in 18 16, to a great baronial house, to 
like of which no other head and pen together than his have ever 
given material existence. But beneath all the rising, spreading 
fabrics of his brilliant fame and of his castle in the air made real, 
spread an insidious, ceaseless, and unchecked corrosion. The rapid 
building, whether by pen or workman's tool, continued. The brilliant 
romances crowded through the press, — four, in ten volumes, within 



SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 479 

nine months from June, 1819, to March, 1820; ballads, reviews, 
memoirs, historical work, dramas, essays, " Provincial Antiquities 
of Scotland," " Lives of the Novelists," made as by hands Briarean 
and by brain superhuman, came from him ; guineas by scores of 
thousands constantly to him, and guests and honors and praise : 
but with all, expenditure, inflation, and perilous adventure of busi- 
ness associates. Little more than two years in the finished home 
of his heart, his hope, and his long labors, when the corrosion had 
penetrated and ruined the foundation, and the crash ensued, and all 
that was not of sound kept substance fell in January, 1826. Bank- 
ruptcy, seldom more disastrous seemingly ; death of her who was 
nearest and dearest ; breaking of a hfe's strong hopes, objects of 
ambition overthrown, crushing debt, bodily pain, — made ruin that 
might prostrate one being of mortal frame. But out of all the ruin, 
and above it, arose and stood the genius and the character of the 
hard-tried manly man. His acquired fame, that was as a light above 
him and had not a mere material support, could not fall, neither 
grow dim ; for his true self stood firm under it, brightening it with 
the brightness of unobscured integrity. And the grand home he 
had built with the work of his fancy, his heart, and his gains, — 
honest even more by his future than by his past labor, — remained 
to express in a visible monument whatever of him all earthly vicis- 
situdes could not lay low. 

" ' My m'ind to me a kingdom is,' " he wrote in his diary. " I am 
rightful monarch ; and God to aid, I will not be dethroned . . . 
says Burns : — 

' Come firm Resolve, take thou the van, 
Thou stalk of carle-hemp in man.' " 

To his endeavoring will, the strong purpose came. He left the 
large and pleasant houses that had sheltered him in his prosperity, 
and at humble lodgings (page 261) maintained the fight he had 
begun with adversity. Through five years he struggled bravely, — 
some mention how has more than once appeared upon these 
pages ; on the 403d and 404th, how he produced " Woodstock," his 
first great work within this period, to " Castle Dangerous," his last, 
briefly described in chapter the twenty-third. With shghtest possi- 
ble resting, his labor — ten, twelve, fourteen hours, day after day — 
continued from 1826 to 1831, and his intent grew towards its con- 
summation. " Had he chosen," wrote Mr. Lockhart, " to act in 



4S0 SCOTTS LIFE A^D CIIARACTKR. 

the manner commonly adopted by commercial insolvents, the matter 
would have been settled in a very short time;" but "he regarded 
the embarrassment of his commercial firm, on the M^hole, with the 
feelings, not of a merchant, but of a gentleman. He thought that 
by devoting the rest of his hfe to the service of his creditors, he 
could, in the upshot, pay the last farthing he owed them. . . . Nor 
had Sir Walter calculated wrongly. He paid the penalty of health 
md life, but he saved his honor and his self-respect." His gigantic 
exertions gained what he sought, both of principle and of financial 
result. The means by which he achieved the end are amazing 
from the rapidity of their formation and from their quahty, — eight 
" Waverley " novels (in fifteen volumes), " Life of Napoleon" (in 
nine volumes), " History of Scotland " (in two volumes), " Tales of 
a Grandfather," historical (in four series, twelve volumes) ; " Let- 
ters on Demonology and Witchcraft " (one volume) ; two dramas ; 
long "Essays on Ballad Poetry," and five lesser, on various sub- 
jects ; a Memoir (of George Ballantyne) ; two " Religious Dis- 
courses ; " nine review articles ; an edition of his miscellaneous 
prose works, and of all his novels. These, and the many engage- 
ments of active life, within six years of prematurely growing age 
and infirmity, borne by a heart whose strength was "firm Resolve " 
of duty " to God and to my children," that, he had written (May 
23, 1826), "must teach" him "patience." Then, finally, the forces 
of nature and of will — impaired, weakened, exhausted — yielded, 
until the once strong man was prostrated. But, even in the slow 
passing away, he struggled. He tried to regain the vigor leaving 
him for ever, to stay the failing powers. " Early on the 23d of 
September, 1831," he departed from " Abbotsford, attended by his 
daughter Anne," and Mr. Lockhart (as the last has recorded), and 
" reached London by easy stages on the 28th, having spent one day 
at Rokeby." He spent nearly a month at and around the metropo- 
Hs and saw much society (page 420). On October 29th, he sailed 
from Portsmouth in the " Barham," a Royal frigate in which his 
passage to the Mediterranean was provided by government. On 
the 17th of December he reached Naples. There he was again 
in society, — the best; there he saw many objects that interested 
him, and there he made some of his latest attempts in composition. 
There he wrote (March 6, 1832, to Mrs. Scott of Harden), "I 
think I shall never ride or walk again. But I must not complain ; 
for my plan ol paying my debts, which you know gave me so much 



SCOTT'S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 4S1 

trouble some years since, has been, thank God, completely suc- 
cessful ; and, what I think worth telling, I have paid very near 
;/^i2o,ooo, without owing any one a half penny, — at least I am 
sure this will be the case by midsummer." During the latter 
part of April he reached Rome, where he again saw society, 
and " received every mark of attention and respect from the 
Italians," and once more tried to compose some work. But he 
was growing weaker. On the nth of May he left Rome. Illness 
rapidly increased. He hurried through Bologna, Ferrara, Venice, 
the Tyrol, Munich, Ulm, and Frankfort, and descended the Rhine, 
by steamer, to Rotterdam, where, on the nth of June, he was lifted 
into an English steamboat that carried him to London. His visit 
and his condition there are described on pages 418 and 419. 
Thence he went home, to die, — paralysis hopelessly wearing out 
his existence. 

The end came in the dining-room at Abbotsford, wrote his biogra- 
pher, "at about half-past one, p.m., on the 21st of September, 
1832." "It was a beautiful day, — so warm, that every window 
was wide open, — and so perfectly still, that the sound of all others 
most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its 
pebbles, was distinctly audible." Attended by all his children, he 
died " at the precise age of sixty-one years, one month, and six 
days," while his family " knelt around his bed, and his eldest son 
kissed and closed his eyes." " No sculptor," continued Mr. Lock- 
hart, "ever modelled a more majestic image of repose. 

" Almost every newspaper that announced this event in Scot- 
land, and many in England, had the signs of mourning usual on 
the demise of a king. With hardly an exception, the voice was 
that of universal, unmixed grief and veneration." "The intelli- 
gence," wrote another, "long expected as it was, passed Hke a 
dark cloud over the land. The public prints were dressed in 
mourning ; many of the vessels in the harbors throughout Eng- 
land were hung at half-mast." 

On the 26th, all of him that was mortal was laid away for ever. 
From the wide Border lands he had loved so well, and from many 
a place more distant, came great multitudes to attend on funeral 
services and fitting eulogy, and to bear him on his last earthly 
journey. " The court-yard and all the precincts of Abbotsford 
were crowded with uncovered spectators as the procession was 
arranged ; and as it advanced through Darnick and Melrose, and 



4S2 SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 

the adjacent villages, the whole population appeared at their doors, 
— almost all in black. The train of carriages extended . . . over 
more than a mile ; the Yeomanry followed in great numbers on 
horseback ; and it was late in the day ere " they " reached Dry- 
burgh. Some accident . . . caused the hearse to halt for several 
minutes on the summit of the hill at Bemerside, — exactly where a 
prospect of remarkable richness opens, and where Sir Walter had 
always been accustomed to rein up his horse. The day was 
dark and lowering, and the wind high." That wide and beautiful 
landscape has already been sketched on page 316. There is 
scarcely another fairer in the Lands of Scott, or where his spirit 
yet seems to linger more fondly, where nature is more seemingly a 
living monument inscribed by him with words ever eloquent in his 
praise. It appeared to express the aspect of the shores of Loch 
Achray, — described in lines of one of his most characteristic 
passages : — 

"There is no breeze upon the fern, 
Nor ripple on the lake ; 

Upon her eyry nods the erne, 
The deer has sought the brake ; 
The small birds will not sing aloud. 

The springing trout lies still, 
So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud, 
That swathes, as with a purple shroud," 

Great Eildon's "distant hill." 

"On the day of Scott's burial" (said Mr. Goodrich), "at the 
very hour he was borne along to the tomb, this lake [Achray], 
the Trosachs, Ben Ain, Benvenue, — the scenery which has become 
enchanted ground through the magic power of his minstrelsy, — 
were dressed in clouds, weeping, as if in sympathy with mankind, 
and mourning the departure of that mighty spirit which had 
wreathed their brows with imperishable fame." In his own half- 
prophetic lines, the material world seemed with his spirit to be 
saying : — 

" Call it not vain : — they do not err, 

Who say, that when the Poet dies, 
Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, 

And celebrates his obsequies : 
Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone. 
For the departed Bard make moan ; 
That mountains weep in crystal rill ; 
That flowers in tears of balm distil : 



SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 4S3 

" Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, 
And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; 
And rivers teach their rushing wave 
To murmur dirges round his grave." 

" Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn, 
Those things inanimate can mourn ; 
But that the stream, the wood, the gale, 
Is vocal with the plaintive wail 
Of those, who, else forgotten long, 
Lived in the poet's faithful song. 
And with the poet's parting breath, 
Whose memory feels a second death." 

From Bemerside, the long procession moved onward to the 
venerable aisle where his remains were to be laid. " The wide 
enclosure at the Abbey of Uryburgh was thronged with old and 
young ; and when the coffin was taken from the hearse, and . . . 
laid on the shoulders of the afflicted serving-men, one deep sob 
burst from a thousand lips. Mr. Archdeacon Williams read the 
Burial Service of the Church of England ; and thus, about half-past 
five o'clock in the evening of Wednesday, the 26th September, 
1832, the remains of Sir Walter Scott were laid by the side of 
his wife in the sepulchre of his ancestors." 

And where this last earthly journey left him, well may end these 
records of long travel through the regions that we now with truth 
and with affection name " The Lands of Scott." And while we linger 
in farewell to them, to him, and feel the new and lasting consecra- 
tion of the ground with which the dust of his pure, manly heart is 
mingled, we repeat at least one passage of the service at his burial, 
and render " hearty thanks for the good examples of all those . . . 
who, having finished their course in faith, do now rest from their 
labors ; " and with hope and trust we add words of that ritual sung 
by many generations round the shrine at Dryburgh : — 

" Domine," " ad te omnis caro veniet : " 
" Beati mortui, qui in Domino moriuntur. Amodo, . . . ut requiescant a laboribus 
suis ; opera enim illorum sequuntur illos." 

The character of Sir Walter Scott, and of his works, already in 
some degree illustrated along these pages, may be comprehensively 
told here by a few of his own words, by a few opinions of other 
authors, and by one or two of the writer's closing paragraphs. 

There are moments when mortal life is serenely blending with 
the immortal : and the mind, penetrating the significance of both, 



|84 SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 

concentrates every experience of the past, and, in the balance of 
just conscience, weighs all with foresight of a future. The lasl 
utterances then truly sound the key-note of a human existence, 
and express full estimate of its relations to things realized and 
prospective. In the last tone of Scott's voice, this note was clear. 
As the inevitable change grew on him, his mind was filled with 
thoughts of solemn beauty, expressed in scriptural passages or 
verses of old Latin hymns, half-audible ; or, often, distinctly heard, 
the cadence of the '•'■ Dies Irce,'^ or of the '■'• Stabat Mater,''^ — 
compositions "in which he had always delighted." His parting 
words to "his son-in-law, biographer, and friend," — while his eye 
was clear and calm, — were, " Lockhart, I may have but a minute 
to speak to you. My dear, be a good man — be virtuous — be re- 
ligious — be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort 
when you come to lie here." He paused, and Mr. Lockhart asked, 
" Shall I send for Sophia and Anne 1 " " No," said he, " don't dis- 
turb them. Poor souls ! I know they were up all night, — God 
bless you all." " With this, he sank into a very tranquil sleep ; 
and, indeed, he scarcely afterwards gave any sign of conscious- 
ness." His convictions and his cordial kindness were without mis- 
take expressed in those last words. 

His moral motives in authorship, the great business of his life, 
were modestly told by himself during his last year. He is said to 
have, in a conversation, spoken with regret of Goethe. " Much of 
his popularity," Scott observed, "was owing to pieces which, in 
his latter moments, he might have wished recalled. He spoke with 
much feehng." A friend answered, " that he (Scott) must derive 
great consolation in the reflection that his own popularity was owing 
to no such cause. He remained silent for a moment, with his eyes 
fixed on the ground ; when he raised them, . . . the hght blue eye 
sparkled with unusual moisture. He added, ' I am drawing near 
to the close of my career ; I am fast shuffling off the stage. I have 
been perhaps the most voluminous author of the day ; and it is a 
comfort to me to think that I have tried to unsettle no man's faith, 
to corrupt no man's principle, and that I have written nothing 
which, on my death-bed, I should wish blotted.'" His moral, 
and also his religious, motives are concisely described by Mr. Lock- 
hart, who wrote that Scott showed " humble reliance on the wisdom 
and mercy of God ; and his firm behef that we are placed in this 
state of existence, not to speculate about another, but to prepare 



SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACIER. 485 

ourselves for it by actual exertion of our intellectual faculties, and 
the constant cultivation of kindness and benevolence towards our 
fellow-men. . . . His works teach the practical lessons of morality 
and Christianity in the most captivating form, — unobtrusively and 
unaffectedly." Through his life and works we may trace " the 
happy effects of his having written throughout with a view to some- 
thing beyond the acquisition of personal fame. Perhaps no great 
poet ever made his literature so completely ancillary to the objects 
and purposes of practical life. However his imagination might 
expatiate, it was sure to rest over his home. The sanctities of do- 
mestic love and social duty were never forgotten ; and the same 
circumstance that most ennobles all his triumphs affords also the 
best apology for his errors." 

And " we may picture," continued Mr. Lockhart, — more of whose 
just and affectionate words the writer cannot forbear quoting, — 
" we may picture to ourselves, in some measure, the magnitude of 
the debt we owe to a perpetual succession, through thirty years, 
of publications unapproached in charm, and all instilling a high and 
healthy code ; a bracing, invigorating spirit ; a contempt of mean 
passions, whether vindictive or voluptuous ; humane charity, as dis- 
tinct from moral laxity as from unsympathizing austerity ; a sagac- 
ity too deep for cynicism, and tenderness never degenerating into 
sentimentality ; animated throughout in thought, opinion, feeling, 
and style, by one and the same pure, energetic principle, — a pith 
and savour of manhood ; appealing to whatever is good and loyal 
in our natures, and rebuking whatever is low and selfish." 

Other qualities of Scott's character may, also, be concisely de- 
scribed here by quotations from the ample consideration of them by 
his biographer. In poHtical affairs, " he was, on practical points, a 
steady, conscientious Tory of the school of William Pitt ; who, 
though an anti-revolutionist, was certainly any thing but an anti- 
reformer." " In the social relations of life, where men are most 
effectually tried, no spot can be detected in him. He was a patient, 
dutiful, reverent son ; a generous, compassionate, tender husband ; 
an honest, careful, and most affectionate father." " If ever the 
principle of kindliness was incarnated in a mere man, it was in 
him." 

A character that has compass, that is like or that resembles 
his, is generally animated by some one pervading motive ; and 
this in Scott, actuated by integrity through all the marvello_;s 



486 SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 

means he used to attain its object, is, as of course it would be, 
clearly and completely shown by his biographer, " His first and 
last worldly ambition," said Mr. Lockhart, "was to be himself the 
founder of 'an honorable family,' and dreamed not of personal 
fame, but of long distant generations rejoicing in the name of 
' Scott of Abbotsford.' By this idea, all his reveries, all his aspi- 
rations, all his plans and efforts, were overshadowed and controlled." 
" His worldly ambition was thus grafted on that ardent feeling for 
blood and kindred, which was the great redeeming element in the 
social life of what we call the Middle Ages." " He wished to re- 
vive the interior life of the castles he had emulated, — their wide, 
open, joyous reception of all comers, but especially of kinsmen, 
alhes, and neighbors." '" To this ambition we owe the gigantic 
monuments of Scott's genius." But " the indulgence cost him 
very dear. It ruined his fortunes ;" and, more, it burdened his 
heart with troubles that he could not express. " During the most 
energetic years of manhood he labored with one prize in view ; and 
he had just grasped it, as he fancied securely, when all at once the 
vision was dissipated." It must seem to nearly every one, as it did 
to Mr. Lockhart, " that strength of character was never put to a 
severer test than when, for labors of love, such as his had hitherto 
almost always been, — the pleasant exertion of genius for the attain- 
ment of ends that owed all their dignity and beauty to a poetical 
fancy, — there came to be substituted the iron pertinacity of daily and 
nightly toil, in the discharge of a duty which there was nothing 
but the sense of chivalrous honour to make stringent." 

Estimates of the character of his compositions have been re- 
corded by many other authors, two or three of which may give 
adequate expression of their, and also of his, quality. Wrote 
Mr. Goodrich : Scott " has contributed to enlighten and elevate 
the human race more than any other modern writer. Millions of 
individuals have been kept from pursuing coarse gratifications by 
reading his books, and led to find enjoyment in intellectual pur- 
suits. Millions have had their minds invigorated, their hearts 
purified and softened, by the productions of his genius. . . . He 
has elevated the standard of human mtellect, and improved the 
civihzation of the world. He has been one of the great benefactors 
of his race. . . . His life was a wholesome rebuke to those who 
fancy that it is witty to scoff at sacred things ; that genius can 
excuse immorality ; that vice implies talent ; that virtue is synony- 



SCOTT'S LIFE AND CHARACTER. zjbp 

nious with dulness." Wrote Washington Irving, with true senti- 
ment of friendship and generosity, and appreciative abihty pecuharly 
his own : Scott's " works have incorporated themselves with the 
thoughts and concerns of the whole civilized world, for a quarter of 
a century, and have had a controlling influence over the age in 
which he lived. But when did a human being ever exercise an 
influence more salutary and benignant ? Who is there that, on 
looking back over a great portion of his hfe, does not find the 
genius of Scott administering to his pleasures, beguiling his cares, 
and soothing his lonely sorrows ? Who does not still regard his 
works as a treasury of pure enjoyment, an armory to which to 
resort in time of need, to find weapons with which to fight off the 
evils and the griefs of Hfe ? " 

The peculiar fascination of Scott's genius is, in some degree, 
described by Wordsworth in the poem " Yarrow Revisited " (page 
292), addressed to Scott, and expressing charms of a scene to 
which he has imparted a fairer and a perennial beauty : — 

" For Thou upon a hundred streams, 
By tales of love and sorrow, 
Of faithful love, undaunted truth, 
Hast shed the power of Yarrow." 

These lines indicate the one great characteristic of Scott's power 
and influence, enduring and beneficent, that he has diffused over 
extended scenes of nature and art, of history and romance, and 
conditions of a score of generations of humanity, and through his 
compositions and his life. It is a spirit of manliness, developed in 
genius, noble and kind as it is possible to typify, and that does not 
exceed but wins the sympathies of the best in this century. It is a 
spirit that loved and translated to us the sweet and fair, the wild 
and grand, unspoken eloquence of Nature ; or stories of the Past 
that Hved in her, or that his creative power gave her when he felt 
his love was unrequited where she did not yield what his affection 
sought, — a spirit full of cordial fellow-feeling with trials and true 
aspirations of the various conditions of mankind, — a spirit of 
chivalrous attachment to truth and duty, as well as to those quali- 
ties apt to appear more brilliant. Scott's relation to the world, 
especially as a "representative man," during the last hundred 
years, has been described by John Ruskin in a long, profoundly 
critical, and appreciative analysis, in one of the admirable chapters 
of " Modern Painters." Scott, he estimates the great " represen- 



ijSS SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 

tative of the mind of" this "age" in Hterature, "encumbered," 
although he thinks, "by innumerable faults and weaknesses." 
*' But," says Mr. Ruskin, " it is pre-eminently in these faults and 
weaknesses that Scott is representative of the mind of his age : 
and because he is the greatest man born among us, and intended 
for the enduring type of us, all our principal faults must be laid on 
his shoulders, and he must bear down the dark marks to the latest 
ages." An abridgment cannot well show how Mr. Ruskin proves 
or illustrates this statement : the entire sixteen paragraphs in which 
he treats of it should be read. Whatever degree of concurrence 
there may be with his opinion, there can hardly be other than 
accord with his terse, true estimation that Scott was one of "those 
great men whose hearts were kindest, and whose spirits most per- 
ceptive of the work of God." 

The preface of this book ended with an expression of the writer's 
hope that he may be of some service to those who derive pleasure 
or satisfaction from the romance told by the life of a true-hearted 
man. But he can hardly finish this final chapter without expres- 
sion of something better, — of a trust that he may in some degree 
have helped to appreciation of the truth in the character of an hon- 
est, earnest, genial man, who loved the sunshine and the beauty 
God has spread over earth ; the inner life of Nature, as we may 
call it ; the purer, and many of the more heroic traits of human 
character; and the integrity of what he bore " without reproach," 
— " the grand old name of gentleman." 

Now that a full century has passed since he was born into the 
world, and we have reached one of those periodic points of view 
from which we, by sound and pleasant practice, look back upon 
some favorite object standing in the Past, but extending influence 
on our times, and on those yet to come, we see the full proportions 
of his character and fame. It is well for us to pause in the hurry 
of existence, and from such positions to regard the acts that give 
rise or development to great ideas, or the advent on earth of a 
great — especially of a great and good — man. And particularly 
is it well now for us, with the respect of gratitude and of affection, 
to contemplate him whose character and works have been the sub- 
jects of these sketches. For not alone is he one who has given 
us, by his creations, hours and days of pleasure, — not, indeed, 
alone a man who has typified and benefited an eventful age in civil- 



SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER. 4CJ9 

•zation : he is peculiarly and nobly a lesson and a help in the 
daily lives of generations now or hereafter active with engrossing 
business cares. To every commercial man his fatal ensnarement, 
by temptation of unsound and speculative prosperity, is one of the 
most serious warnings that modern civil life can furnish ; and 
his heroic " discharge of duty " after disaster, " a duty which there 
was nothing but the sense of chivalrous honour to make stringent," 
is one of the noblest models. His mind, if its dearest affections 
were attached to the varied picturesqueness of past ages, and the 
airy creations of poetic fancy, had solid strength of an integrity 
and of a true commercial pride, and an^ adhesion to their require- 
ments, that more than one financial centre, and house, and man, 
shows too sadly lacking. And while he demonstrated that brilliant 
genius is compatible with sober morality, domestic peace, and pa- 
tient common sense in those affairs that, in different extents, are 
parts of every life, he also proved how pleasantly and how appro- 
priately the graces of fancy, as well as of the heart and of princi- 
ple, can not only adorn, but render complete, any character, however 
" practical " it may be. 

In the profession that he chose and followed, if his office was 
not to enunciate or to record the gravest thoughts of Themis, it 
was his to wreathe afresh her brow with myrtle empurpled with his 
native heather ; and to show the world that even her severer virtues 
are not inseparable from the Muse's charms, and that her followers, 
whatever be the guile attributed to portions of them, can not only 
well maintain a worthy representative upon Parnassus, but also in 
the lists of Chivalry, — whether set like those of older or of recent 
times. 

In literary pursuits he is eminently a model, — of principles and 
practice not less important than those of style and of conception 
that here do not require analysis. He recommends the sanctities of 
home ; the purity of civil and domestic life ; the freshness and the 
truthfulness . of nature, material or human ; and respect for sacred 
things. 

And now while we withdraw attention from him, we yet, in our 
farewell, seem gazing on an ideal form that he presents to us. As 
when retiring from some great spire or dome, we see it still rising 
high, although each lesser thing around it has sunk low or disap- 
peared, so we, with Time, moving from his age, regard the just pro- 



490 SCOTT S LIFE AND CHARACTER 

portions that his fame and character assume. That character, wrote 
Mr. Lockhart, " seems to belong to some elder and stronger period 
than ours ; " and, he continued, I " cannot help Hkening it to the 
architectural fabrics of other ages which" Scott "most delighted 
in," with all their marvellous variety of rich and beautiful, grand 
and picturesque design. If the writer should attempt to make an 
application of this excellent comparison to one of these fabrics, he 
would make it to Lincoln Cathedral, on its " sovereign hill." Rising 
lofty from foundations deep and sure, enriched by the imagination 
and the art, the wealth of mind and treasure, and the better quali- 
ties of many generations 'past, invested with associations dearly 
cherished, noble and pre-eminent, it stands watching over the an- 
cient castle, the gothic palace, the cloister, the quiet homes that 
cluster beneath it, and the broad lands spread around, — all with 
stories of the human hearts that through the centuries gone were 
active in them. The spirit that once animated the Cathedral, like 
the spirit once in him, long ago departed, but to reappear in holier 
development. And the towering fabric, with the intricacies of its 
mediaeval beauty, though now sending out no tones of mortal voice, 
has yet an eloquence, and day by day diffuses harmonies, more 
widely spreading, over earth. 

Thus, rising in admirable beauty, we see his now ideal form 
bearing its crown, lofty and dominant like towering Lincoln, bright 
and eloquent and noble in the clear sunlight, that, like our parting 
gaze while we now leave his Lands, lingers longest on the pinna- 
cled diadem. 




Hincoln Catljetiral. 



INDEX. 



Abbrhviations. — ch., chapter; des., described; gii., quoted; sta^ station. 



Abbeys, des. Arbroath, 230-32. Dun- 
drennan, 152-3 Egliston, 85-6. Foun- 
tains, 345. Jedburgh, 321. Kelso, 
321-2. Lannercost, 170-1. Lindisfarne, 
38-39. Melrose, 24-5. 

Abbey Burn Foot, 152. 

Craig, 202. 

Head, 154. 

"Abbot." ^-^^The. 

Abbotsford, Scott's first purchase, and 
removal to, 77. 301-2 ; literary work at, 
78, loi, 102, 103, 306 ; general description, 
301-12; do., in 1816, 47B ; Scott :eft on 
his last tour, 480; death at (Sept. 21, 
1S32), 481 ; burial from, 481-3. 

Miscellaneous, 18, 54, 78, 203, 275, 
294. 45'''. 476. 

Abdul Medjid, 459. 

Aberdeen, 227-8. 

Aberfeldy, 141, 203. 

Aberfoyle, 54, 64, 68, des. 180-1, 184. 

Abuigton, Monks of, 387, 390- 

Acre, 454. 

Adam, Hon. W , 245, qic- 247. 

Adlard, G., gu. 388-9. 

Adrian, wall of, 150. 

Agatha ('" Count Robert "), 45S. 

Agricola, 234. 

A.x, 448, 449-50- 452. 

'■ Albyn's Anthology," 186, 471. 

Alexander of Russia, 121. 

W. L., 116. 

Alfred the Great, 392. 

Alianan (ford of), 183. 

''Alice Brand'''' (ballad), 65. 

Lee. SeeLsQ. 

Allen Water, 323-5. 

Alnwick, 344. 

Althorp, 410. 

Aitrive Lake, 291. 

Ambergate, 363 

Ambleside, 94, 137. 

Amboglana, 171. 

Amboise, 423, 426. 

Angus-shire. 141 

Anjou, Margaret of, 448-50. 



Annandale, 148. 

Beefstand, 149, 282. 

" .Anne of Geierstein " (ch. xlv.), 431 ■ 
51, 452, 467. 

Anne. Queen, 369. 

Annesley, J (memoirs of), 161. 

Anthology, The, 472. 

"Antiquary." 6"^^ The. 

Antwerp, 10, 120, 430. 

Arasaig, 108. 

Arbroath, 227, 228, 229-32, 233. 

A rchitectural A ntiquities and Styles : 
British, 302, 392, Baronial or Castel- 
lated: English, 35, 36, 39, 80, 82, 146, 
166-9, 354-5, 356, 365, 36S-9, 372, 379. 
380, 386, 395-400. French, 423-7. Ger- 
man, 40, 446-7. Scottish, 20, 21, 22, 43, 
46, 70, 71, 104, 141, 142, 155, 156, 209, 
212, 243, 248, 280-2, 304-10, 313, 324-5> 
336-8. Danish, 372. Druid, 203, 317, 
372, 392. Domestic : Belgian, 428-30. 
Elizabethan, 166, 3S5, 397 French, 179, 
243, 424, 423-7. Jacobean, 179, 260, 
280, 333.356-. Tudor, 166-9, 39I) 393. 
399. Ecclesiastical : Byzantine, 459. 
German, 447-8. Norman, 39, 231, 318- 
19, 321-2, 349, 353, 354-5. 383. 426. 
Pointed, Earlier, 152, 153, 170, 171, 
175-6,221-3, 231, 235, 318, 319, 335» 360- 
Do., Later, 24, 25, 262-3, 368-9, 383, 
399, 417. 424- Saxon. 349, 354-5. 368, 
382, 392. Spanish, 17. Fictish, 219. 
Roman (various), 150, 17 1-2, 174, 223, 
228, 234, 253, 302, 354, 377, 392, 470. 
Scandinavian, 223, 354. 

Ardchattan, 209. 

Ardenvohr, 209, 210. 

Ardnamurchan Pt. and Mts., 107. 

Ardrossan, 116. 

Ardvoirlich, 207. 

Argyll, Duke of, « 119, 267, 271, 273-4. 

Marquis of, 210-12. 

Argyllshire, 103 

Arnheim, Barons, 442. Castle, 447. 

Arran, Isle of, 103, 113, des. 1 16-17, 187. 

Artornish Castle, 103, des. 104-5, 104-7. 

Arthur's Seat, 44, 145. View from, 256-9, 
439- 

Ascalon, 453. 



494 



INDEX. 



Ashby-de-Ia-Zouche, 350, 352. 

Ashdown, 392. 

Ashiestiel, 17, 77, 201, des. 277-g, 301. 

Ashmole, E., qn. 3S7, 415. 

Ashton, Lady, 334, 341. 

Lucy, 336, 339-43- 

Sir W., 334, 338, 33g. 

Aspen, Aspern, 467. 
Athelstane, 350, 352, 3.t;3, 359. 
Athol, 227. 

'' Aitchindrane" 469. 

Austria, 444, 467. 

Avenel Castle, 245, 315. 

Awe, Bridge and Pass of, 209, 461-2. 

Ayr, 118, 196, 469. 

Ayrshire, 103, 187, 469. 

Tragedy, 469. 

Azotus, 454. 



B. 

Bacon, F., 306. 

Baden-Baden, 40, 446. 

Balir Geist, 382, 384-5. 

Baiglie, Wicks of, 234. 

Baiilie, J , 467. 

Bakewell, 367. 

Balderston, Caleb, 335, 339, 340 

Baldringham, 381-2. 

Balfour of Burley, 194-8. 

Baliol. Mrs. B., 461-2, 464. 

" Ballads arid Lyrical Pieces,''^ 34 

shorter Poems, 469-75. 

Ballantyne (J. & J.), 134, 333. 

& Co., 102. 

Geo., Memoir of, 480. 

Balmawhapple, Laird of, 144. 

Balmoral, 228. 

Balquidder, Braes, &c., 64, 186, 203, 206. 

Balue, Card, 426. 

Bamborough, 38, 39, 344. 

Bangor, 474. 

Banks, Sir J., 115. 

Bannatyne Club, 308. 

Bannavie, 212, 213. 

Bannockburn, 70, 119, 144, 202. 

Barebones, D., 416. 

" Barham " frigate, 480. 

Barnard Castle, 78, des. 80, 81, 82. 85. 345. 

Bartlptt's Cumnor, 389. 

Basle, 438, 439, 442, 443, 444. 

Bass Rock, 47, 264, 332. 

Bassenthwaite Water, 95. 

Bath, Scott at, 15. 

''''Battle of BeaVan Duine" 72. 

Bavaria, 446, 467. 

Bawtry, 355. 

Bearne, 141, 434. 

Beattie, Dr., qu. 397. 

Beattock sta., 174. 

Beauchamp, B., 317. 

Belford, 35, 38, 165, 344. 

Belgium, 120, 137, 422, 428-32. 

Belisarius, 448. 



Bemerside, 316, 482, 483. 
Ben Cruachan, 208 461. 

Ledi, 72, 202. Viezv frojH, 204-5, 206. 

Lomond, 182, 184, 185. 

Macdhui, 228. 

Nevis, 212, 213, 471. 

Voirlich, 208. 

Benvenue, 60, 64, 72, 107, 482. 
Beregonium, 209-10. 
Berenger, Eveline, 379-S5. 

Sir R., 378, 379, 381. 

Bergen-op-Zoom, 120. 
Berne, 141, 434. 
Berridale, 214. 

Bertha (" Count Robert "), 458. 
Berwick (on Tweed), 35, 39, 313. 314, 332, 
344, 468. 

North, 47, 264, 275, 332, 

"Betrothed." .^^^ The. 
Biddleston (_Osbaldistone), 165. 
Biggar, 201 



Bilhaghe, 356, 357. 
Billings, R. W., qzi. 
qit- 221, qu. 231, 
Birkhill, 191, 206. 
Birkland, 356, 357. 
" Bizarro," 466. 
"Black Bear'' (inn), 



46, 116, 
qu. 260. 



qu. 179-80, 



See Cumnor. 



" Black Dwark, The" (ch. xvxii.), 279- 

84> 295, 333, 473, 477. 
Blackford Hill, 43. 
Blackhouse, 291. 
Black, Messrs , 1S9. 
Blackness, 70. 

Blacquernal, 456, 457, 458, 46c. 
Blair Adam, 245. 
Club, 245. 

Athol, 227. 

gowrie, 142, 145, 227. 

Blantyre Priory, 198. 

Blenheim Park and Palace, 406-7, 409-10. 

Blois, 423, 426. 

" Blue Bonnets," 473. 

Bochastle (Heath), 54, 68. 

Bodsbeck, 190. 

" Brownie of," 190, 193, 286. 

Holdside, 323. 

liolingbroice. Lord, Ins. at Blenheim, 409. 

Bolton, 370. 

Bonnivard, 433. 

" Border Antiquities," q7e. 168-9, 2S3. 

Border, Scottish (Eastern), 34, 275, 321. 

(Middle), 19, 23, 34, 190-3, 245, 

279, 280 (ch. xxxiu.), 285-95, 439- 

(Western), 45, 149, 150. 

Welsh, 373-81, 385. 

Borough ISIoor, 43. 

Borrowdale, 95, 138. 

Rorthwick, 295. 

Boston (Lincolnshire), 356. Do., N. E., 

356. 
Bothwell, brigg, ig6-j. 

Castle, 1S7, 197, 470. 

haugh, 197. 

Earl of, 337. 

Mrs. M., and Lady, 464-^- 



INDEX. 



495 



Bourges, 425. 

Bowden Moor, 23. 

Bowhill, 21, 293. 

Bower, J., 297. 

Boyce, R., 416 

Bradwardine, Rose, 143. 

Braeniar, 228. 

Braid Hills, view from, 43. 

Branksome Castle, des- 21-2, 27-30, 45, 

282, 295 
Brenhilda, 45S. 
Breisach, 443-4. 
"Bridal of Triermain " (ch. xi.), 86- 

loi, 121, 131, 134, 137. 
Bridgenorth, Alice, 367, 369, 371, 372, 374, 

375, 376. 
Maj., 367, 369, 370, 371, 372, 

373. 375- 
Bngg of Turk, 55, 203. 
Brignal, 79, 80. 
Britain, Grt., ir, 14, 376. 

's gratitude, 410. 

" Bride of Lammermoor" (ch. xxxvi.), 

^ 33.2-343. 347, 388. 

British Magazine, 405. 

Broadford, 108. 

Broad oak, 357. 

Brodick Bay, 117. Castle, 117, 118. 

Brownrigg. Mrs., 416. 

Bruce, Robt., 103, 105, 119, 210, 296, 469. 

Bruntsfield, 142. 

Brussels, 120. 

Buccleuch, Dukes of, 17, 21, 295, 472. 

Duchess of, 19. 

and Monmouth, Duchess of, 19- 

21 295. 
Buchan, Earls of, 316-17, 318, 319. 
Bucklaw, 336. 
Buckingham, Duke of (James I. reign, 

"Nigel"), 418. 
(Charles II., " Pev- 

eril"), 375,417. 
Bucklyvie sta., 180, 185, 187. 
Bunawe, 461. 
Burdoswald, 171. 
Burger (translation), 17. 
Burgh-upon-the-Sands, 150. 
Burgundy, 422. 
Duke of, in " Durward," 422, 

428, 429, 431-2; in "Geierstein," 439, 

443, 444, 449, 450-1. See Charles. 
Burg Westra, 216, 217, 218. 
Burns, Robt., 16, 151, 173, 187, 190, 196, 

214, 469; "firm Resolve," 479. 
Burra, 220. 
Burritt, E., qtc. 396-7. 
Buxton, 363, 364. 
Byron, Lord, qu. 13, 15, loi, 226, qu. 301, 

qu. 332, 356, qu. 433, 434, 442, 477- 
Byzantines, 456 



c. 

Cachets, 426. 

Cadwgan ap Bleddyn ap Gynfyn, 3S0. 



Cadyow Castle, 197, 470. 

Caerlaverock Castle, des. 155-6, 151. 

Parish, 189. 

Csesar's Tower (Kenilworth), 396, 398. 

Caithness, 214, 215, 224, 225, 227. 

Caledonia (Scott to), 31. 

Caledonian Canal, 143, 213. Do. railway, 
148 

Callander, 54, 64, 67, 144, 186, 202, 203. 

Camasunarv, 109. 

Cambridge (Eng.), 360. 

Cambusmore, 54. 

Campbell, T., 278. 

Canna, 113. 

Canobie Lee, 45, 160. 

Canons (American), 198. 

Canterbury, Archb-, 378. 

Cantyre, Mull of, 116. 

Carberry Hill, 249, 265. 

" Carle, now the King's come," 475. 

Carlisle, 45, 87, 88, 8g, 9i, 138, 145, 146, 
147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 160, 164, 174, 
18S, 463. 

Carlisle Castle, 146. Cathedral, 174. 

Carpenter, Miss (Lady Scott), Sir W. first 
met, 17, 165-6, 172-4. 

Carrick, 117. 

Carterhaugh, 294, 474. 

Cartland Crags, 194. 

" Castle Dangerous," 187 (cK. xxiii.), 
199-201, 456, 479. 

Castle Douglas, 463. 

Castle Rocks, 94, 95. 

Castleton, 364. 

Castletown (Man), 372, 374. 

Castles, described : 

Artomish, 103-4. Baden-Baden, 

446-7. Barnard, 80. Bothwell, 197. 
Branxholm, 21-2. Brodick, 117, Caer- 
laverock, 155-6. Carlisle, 146. Craig- 
nethan, 195-6. Coningsburgh, 354-5. 
Crichton, 43. Dinas Bran, 379. Doune, 
144. Dunstaffnage, 209-10 Falkland, 
243. Goldieland, 282-3. Graadtully, 
141-2. Hillslop, 324-5. Hoddam, 148. 
Holy Island, 39. Inverary, 210-11. In- 
verlochy, 212. Kenilworth, 395-400. 
Loches, 426-7. Loch Leven, 24S-9. 
Mortham, 82. Mousa, 219-20. Naworth, 
166-9. Newark, 20. Norham, 35-6. 
Peel, 374. Peronne, 431. Peveril, 
365-6. Plessis, 423-5. Powj's, 380. 
Roslin, 17. Rushin, 372. Smailholm, 
313-15. Stirling, 70-1. Tantallon, 46- 
50. Tumberry, 1 18. Warwick, 386. 

Cathcart Castle, 253. 

Cathedrals, described: 

Constantinople (Sta. Sophia), 459- 
Durham, 125-8. Glasgow, 175-6 
Gloucester, 383 Kirkwall. 221-3. Lin- 
coln, 355, 490. Litchfield, 52 Stras- 
bourg, 447-8. Tours, 424. York, 346. 
See Churches. 

Catherine Sevton, 246-54. 

Catskill (N. Y.), 55. 

Caulshiels. See Loch. 



496 



INDEX. 



Cavaliers, 366, 367, 40S. 

Cawdor Castle, 214. 

Cawood, A., 309. 

Cedric the Saxon, 348, 352-3. 359» S^i' 

Celano, Thos. of, 34. 

Cessford's fight, 302. 

Chalmers, G., on "■ The Anthony," 233. 

Chambellan, H8tel de, 449. 

Chambers, R., g7i. 162, gu. 267, gu. 280. 

Chambord, 423. 

Chamouni, 433. 

Chantrey, F., 419. 

Chapelhope, 193, 286. 

Charlcote Hall, 385. 

Charlemagne, 432. 

Charles I., 80, 407. 

II, 197, 366, 368, 374, 376: at 

Woodstock, 40S, 415, 417, 418. 

— III. (France), 431. 

VII. (France), 425. 

of Sweden, 362. 

the Bold, 421, 429, 439, 444, 450. 

See Burgundy. 
Chateau de Hautlieu, 423. 
Chatsworth, 363, 368. 
Chatterton, T., 4r7. 
Chaucer, G., gu. 10, 409. 
Chepstow Castle, 474. 
Chertsey, 390. 
Cheshire, 371, 398. 
Chester, des. 376-377, 378, 386. 

Earl of, 368. 

Cher, The, 424. 

Cheviots, The, 36, 51, 165, 314, 316, 473. 

Chillingham Castle (Osbaldistone), 165, 

166, 344. 
Chillon, 40, 433. 
Christian, Wm. (Peverll), 370, 371, 373, 

374> 375- 
"Christie's Will," 281-2. 
" Chronicles of the Canongate," 264, 

461-5. 
Churches and Chapels, described: 

Cumnor, 389. Roslin, 17. St. Anthony 

(Edinburgh), 270-1. St. Benigne, 449. 

St. Botholph (Boston), 356. St. Jacques 

and St. Martin (Liege), 430- St. John 

(Perth), 235, 240. St. Sauveur, 450. 

Stratford, 385. Temple (London), 360. 
Churchill's Pillar, 407, 409- 
Cistercians, 24, 153, 296. 
Civil War (The Great, Eng.), 365, 405. 

(The Roses), 422, 448. 

Clans Chattan and Quhele, 239, 242. 

Clarens, 433. 

" Clarty Hole," 302. 

Clerk, Mr , gii. (on " Waverley"), 142. 

Clifton, 145. 

Clipstone, 356. 

Closeburn, 188, 198. 

Uyde, the, 70, 170, 177. 187, 194, 197, 

253- 273- ^ 

tails of, 174, 194. 

Cockburnspath sta., 275, 335, 336. 
Coeur, Jacques, 425. 
Coilanlantogle Ford, 67, 69. 



Coilsfield, 173. 

Coir-nan-Uriskin, 64. 

Coldingham, 335. 

Coldstream, 50. 

Coleridge, S. T., 278, qu. 434. 

Coll, 108. 

Colmslie Tower, 324, 325. 

Colonsay, 113, 116. 

Colune, Castle of, 378. 

Comnena, Princess, 457. 

Compton Winyates, 391. 

Comrie, 54. 

Coniston, 137. 

Coningsburgh, 350, 354-5. 

Constable, G , 229, 232 ; & Co., 411, 468. 

gift of classics, 303. 

Constance de Beverley, 40-2. 
Constantinople, 456, 458-60. 
Coolin Hills, 108, 109-10, 113. 
Cooper, J. F., 373. 

Copmanhurst (Friar Tuck's), 353, 362. 
Cornhill, 50, 51. 

Corstorphine Hill, 141. 

Corwen. 379. 

Cotehele House, des- 393. 

Cotton Chapel (Boston), 356. 

Coucy, 317. 

Cowley, A., 415. 

" Count Robert of Paris " (ch. xlvii.), 

455-60. 
" Court Knowe," 253. 
Covenanters, 174. Retreats of, &c., 188- 

93, 198-9, 200, 286, 287, 289-90, 473. 

'• Marriage Day," lo^. 

Coventry, 386, 396. 

Cowdenknows, 312, 316. 

Craigcrook, 141, 265. 

Craighall, 142, 145-6, 227 

Craigieburn, 190. 

Craignethan, 195-6. 

Craigroyston, 186, 471. 

Crawford, 28 1. 

Cree, 157. 

Crichton Castle, 43, 265, 332 

Crichup Linn, des. 198. 

Crieff, 203. 

Croftangry, C, 464. 

Cromarty Firth, 214. 

Cromwell, Q., 47, 71, 357) 364* 398, 406, 

408. 
Crookston Castle, 253-4. 
Crosbie, A. (Pleydell), 161. 
" Cross of Fire," 63-4. 
Crossraguel Abbey, 469. 
Crow Castle. See Dinas Bran. 
Croye, Ladies of, 427-32. 

Isabelle of, 428-32. 

Cruachan, Ben, 208, 461. 
Crusade, First, 457. 

Third, 378, 452, 454. 

Crusaders. 384. 

•' Tales of the. See Tales. 

Culloden, 214. 
Culzean Castle, 469. 
Cumberland, 77, 89, 94, 154. 
Cummertrees, 148. 



INDEX. 



497 



Cumnor Hall, 388, 389-901 39i-2« 394? 
402. 

ballad, gu. 387. 

-; ^ — Village, 389-90. 

Cunningham, A., 466. 
Cuthbert, St-, 122-3, 125, 13a. 



D. 

Dacre (family), 149. Do. Lord, 27. 
Dalgarno, Lord, 412-13, 414. 
Dalkeith, 17, 249, 265. 

Countess of, 20. 

Dalmally, 461. 

Dalriadan Kings, 210. 

Dalrymple, Mrs. J., 334. 

Dandie Dinmont, 160, 162, 174, 263. 

Danube, The, 467. 

Darlington, 80, 165. 

Darnick, 481. 

" Duke of," 301. 

Damlinvarach, 207. 
Dartmoor, 393. 

David L, 24, 296, 317, 321, 323. 
Davidson, A. (Balderstone), 335. 

J. (Dinmont), 162. 

Dead Sea, 453. 

Deans, Effie, 260, 266, 269-75. 

Jeanie, 266, 269-75. 

Dee, river. 156, 157, 158, 159, 163. 

(Highland), 228. 

De Lacy, Damian, 383-5. 

Sir Hugo, 379, 381-4. 

Randal, 384. 

Deloraine, Wm , of (The Lay), 23-30, 294. 
Derby, Earls of, 370, 371. 

Countess of, 369-7i> 372. 373, 374, 

375- 

Derbyshire, 358, 363, 364, 365, 371, 376, 

386. 
Devil, Just (Woodstock), 405-6. 
Devil's Cavern, 364. 
Derwent water, 95, 138. 
Devonshire, 391, 393. 
Diana Vernon, 164, 166, 170, 173-4, 178, 

344- 
Dibdin, Dr. T. F., gu. 306, 308. 
Dies Irae, 33, 484. 
Dijon, des 449. 

Dinas Bran Castle, 378-9, 381, 384-5. 
Dingwall, 214. 

Dirk Hatteraick's Cave, des. 158. 
Dobb's Linn, 190. 
Dod Great, 95. Do. Watson's, 95. 
Dominie Sampson, 157, 162, 263. 
Don (river), 348, 354. 
Doncaster, 348, 352, 354. 
Donizetti, 335, 343. 

'■^ Doom of Devorgoil, They'' 161, 469. 
Doomsday (survey), 367. 
Dornoch Firth, 214, 227. 
Douglass, Ellen, 57-75, 202, 263. 
Lords, 46-50, 62-74, 197, 201, 

238, 244, 304, 332. 



Douglass, Dr R., 302. 

• — Regent, 468. 

Castle, 200-1. Do. dale, 187, 

200-I. Do. mill, 201. Do. Tragedy, 

289, 291. 
Doune, Braes of, 70. 

Castle, 144, 463. 

Dramas and Ballads (ch. xlix.), 466-75. 

Drochel Castle, 201. 

Druids, 203, 317, 372, 392. 

Drumburgh Castle, 149. 

Drumclog (field of), ig6. 

Drummond, W., 17. 

Dryburgh Abbey, 54, des. 316-21, 331, 470, 

482 ; Scott's burial at, 483. 
Dryden, J., Scott's ed., 34, 77, 417. 

- portrait of, 309. 

Dryhope Tower, 290. 

Duart Castle, 104. 

Dudley, Earl of, on " Scott ruined," 404. 

Dufferin, Lord, 211. 

Dugald Dalgetty, 206-12. 

" Dukery, The," 355. 

Dumbarton Castle, 70, 253, 462. 

Dumergue, M. Chas., 418, 419. 

Dumfermline, 305. 

Dumfries, 151, 155, 198, 267. 

Dumfriesshire, 148, 188. 

Dunbar, 47, 333, 335. 

Duncansby Head, 215. 

Duncraggan, 55, 63. 

Dundee, 140, 229, 233. 

Dundrennan Abbey, des. 151-3, 254. 

Dunglass, 335, 342. 

Dunkeld, 227. 

Dunottar, 188. 

Dunrobin Castle, 214. 

Dunstaffnage Castle, des. 209, 213. 

Durham, 122, 126, 345. 

Cathedral, 125, des. 126-8, 321. 

Garland, 161. 

Durward, Q , 425-32. 
Dwarfie Stone (Hoy), 224. 



Eamscliff, Laird of, 280. 

Tower, 283, 333. 

Ebersdorf, 467. 

Ecclefechan sta., 148, 174. 

Edgeworth, Miss, 139. 

Edie Ochiltree, 161, 228, 233. 

Edinburgh^ miscellaneous, 14, 19, 22, 41, 
43) 44) 47) 54, 69, 70, loi, 141 (in 1745), 
144-5, 228, 233, 242, 253, 276, 293, 332, 
377) 411) 412, 435, 439. 4^' 465) 475) 476 

Scott's (ch. XXIX.), 255-65. 

Advocate's Close, 162. Arthur's Seat, 
256-9. Canongate, 265, 267. Castle, 70, 
255, 264, 265. College Wynd, 14, 259. 
Cowgate, 14, 150, 262. George Sq. (No 
25), 15, des. 259. Do. Street, 17, 260. 
Grassmarket, 275. High St., 162, 265, 
267. Holyrood, 44, 47, 145, 243, 255, 



498 



INDEX. 



264. Lady Stair's Close, 162, 264, 465. 
Muschat's Cairn, 270. North Castle St. 
(No. 39), 260. Parliament House, &c., 
150, 260, 275. Princess St., 255, 261-3. 
Queen's Drive, 264, 267. Scott's Monu- 
ment, 255-6, 261-3. Salisbury Crags, 
256, 267-8, 270-1. South Castle St., 
17, 260. St. Anthony's Chapel, &c., 
270. St. Leonard's Hill, 269. Tolbooth, 
266 ; Door of, 304 ; Keys, 306. Univer- 
sity, 16, 259, 305. West Bow, 162, 275. 
Writer's Close, 162. " Waverley " at, 
421. Waterloo Tavern, 377. 

" Edinburgh Register," 477. 

Edith Bellenden, 194-9. 

of Lorn, 103-19. 

Edward L, 104, 357, 377, 453. 

VL, 388 

Edwards, E., qu- 308-9. 
Effie Deans. See Deans. 
Egliston Abbey, 79, des. 85. 
Eig (island), 108, 113. 

Eildon Hill, view from, 298-301, 303,311, 

3141 316, 331, 439- 
Elcho Nunnery, 241. 
Elf's Kirk, 198. 
Elgin, 227. 
Elizabeth, Queen, 153, 254, 337, 369, 387, 

389) 397- Enters Kenilworth, 398 and 

400, 401-2. 
"Ellangowan," 151, 154-S) iS^, 163. 
Ellen's Isle (L. Katrine;, 54, des. 58-9, 

58-65- 
EUieslaw Castle, 283-4. 
Elsineur, 372 
Ely, 127. 

Encyclopaedia, two essays to, 102. 
Engedi. 453. 

England, routes to, from Scotland, 275, 343. 
Eskdale. 45, 94. 
Eskvale, 17, 18. 
Essays, 480. 
Ettrick Forest, 23, 474. Do. Vale, 294, 

296, 474 
Eugene Aram, 346. 

EveUne Berenger (Betrothed) See B. 
Evelyn, 394. 

" Eve 0/ Si. John^^'' 19, 315, 473. 
Everett, Ed. (Latin in Cotton Chap.), 356. 



Fairladies, 149. 

"Fair Maid of Perth, The" (ch. 

xxvii.), 233-44, 468. 
Fairport. 228-9. 

Fairservice, And., 164, 170, 175, 180-3. 
Falkirk, 144. 
Falkland, 233, 241, 242, 245. 

Castle, 241, des- 243, 244. 

sta., 241, 245. 

Farn Isles, 39. 

Fast Castle, 275, 309, 332, 333-5? des. 

336-8, 344. 



Faust, 339. 

Fell, Castlerigg, and High, 95. 

Ferette, 443. 

Ferguson, Adam, 165. 

}■ qzi. 459. 

Col. J., 463. 

Ferney, 433. 

" Feudal Castles of France," qu. 426-7. 

Fingal's Cave, 113, des. 1 14-15. 

Finlay, Alex., 201. 

" Fire King, The.,'''' 19. 

Firth of Forth, 70. 

Fitful Head, 216, 219, 220, 472. 

Flanders (in 1470), 422, 428. 

Flodden Field, Scott at in 1791-2, 10. 
Battle, 34, 38, 50-2, 119, 140. 

Foot-ball Match, 474 

Forester, Lady J. and Sir P , 464-5. 

" Fortunes of Nigel, The," 264 (ch. 
xliii.), 410-20. 

Fossati, Chev., 459. 

Foster, Anthony, tomb, 390, 391, 402. 

Foulsheils, 21, 293. 

Fountains Abbey, 345, 362. 

Foyers, falls of, 214. 

France, 137. " Garden of," 423. To Bel- 
gium, 432. 

Franconia (Ger. ), 445. 

(N. H.), 55, 206. 

Frostlee-burn, 45. 

Furness Abbey, 137. 



G. 



Gala Water, 311, 332. 

" Gallant Grahams," 293. 

Galloway, 151, 154, 161, 163, 172, 174, 254, 
304, 463, 469. 

Gardiner, Col., 141. 

Garde Doloureuse, 378-81, 383-4. 

Gare-Loch. See Loch. 

Garvald, 283, 333. 

" Gauger's Loup," 157, 158. 

Geierstein, Anne of, 436-7, 439, 442, 447, 
451. 

Castle, 436, 437. 

Gemmels. A., 233. 

George IV.. 303, 308, 309, 419, 420, 475. 

Gibbon, E., qu. 433. 

Gifford, 41-2. 

W., on " Old Mortality," 477. 

Gilmerton Grange, 472. 

"■ Gilpin Horner " (ballad), 20. [470. 

Gilsland, 17, 164, 165, 166, 170, 172-3, 276, 

Glammis, 227. 

Glasgow, miscellaneous, 54, 69, 116, 170, 
174, 180, 181, 185, 188, 194, 196, 197,202, 
2537 273, 470- 

Scott's, 187. 

Cathedral, 164, des- 175-6, 221, 

321. Old Bridge, 177. Saut Market, 
J 64, des. 179. Tolbooth, 177-8. Uni- 
versity, 179-80. 

Glen Artney, 54, 470- 



INDEX. 



499 



Glen Ary, 208. 

Glencoe, 208, 470. 

Glencroe, 208. 

Glen Falloch, 208. 471. 

Glenfinlas, 18-19, 54? 203, 205, 470. 

Glen Garry, 143, 227. 

Great, of Scotland, 213. 

Glennaquoich, 143. 

Glenquoich, 143. 

Glen Sannox, 117. 

Glendearg, 324-9. 

Glendinning, Edward, 252, 326, 331. 

Haibert, 326, 331. 

" Glenfinlas'''' (ballad), 18, 470. 

Glenvarloch, Lord, 411-14. 

Goattell, 117. 

Godiva, Lady, 386. 

Goethe, 446, 467, 484. 

'• Goetz von Berlickingen,'''' 18, 446, 467. 

Goffe, W , at Hadley, 373 

Golden Gate, 456, 460. 

Goldiland, 23, 45, 282, 295. 

" Good Devil " (of Woodstock), 405-6. 

Goodrich, S. G , qic. on Scott's burial, 

4S2 ; on character of his life and works, 

486. 
Gordon-Arms Inn, 285, 291. 

Jean (Meg Merrilies), 162. 

Gow, Hany (Perth), 236-244. 
Gowrie House and Plot, 235, 243, 337. 
Grace Darling, 39. 
Grseme, Malcolm, 62-75. 

Magdalen. See " The Abbot." 

See Roland. 

Graham, H., 116. 

of Claverhouse, Scott on, 189, 

196 
Grampians, 228, 234. 
Grandson, 450. 
Grandtully Castle, 14T, 203. 
Grantham, 272 
Grant's House sta-, 332, 336. 
Gray, Dr. G 463. 

Menie, 463-4. 

Greenwich, 394. 

Greta, Glen of the, des 83. 

Grey Mare's Tail (fall), des igo. 

Grialdus de Barri, 378. 

Griefenstein, 467. 

Grose, Capt., 148, 210. 

Griitli, 438, 441. 

Guendolen, 90-2. 

Guide Books, local, use of, 18, 263. 

Gunnar, 123-32. 

Gunnerby Hill, 272. 

Guy's Cliff, 386. 

" Guy Mannering" (ch.xx ), 151-63, 87, 

102, 147, 174, 254, 263, 477. 
Gyneth, 91-101. 
Gwenwyn, 378-81. 

H. 

Haddington, 41, 283. 
Haddon Hall, 363, des. 367-9. 



Haddow, Thos., 201. 
Hadley (Mass.), 373. 
Ha^enbach, A. von, 439, 443-4. 
Haliburtons, the, 318. 
" Halidou Hill,'''' 344, 468. 
Hamilton, Dukes of, 117, 197. 

Mr., of Bangour, 291. 

town, 197, 470. 

Hampton Court, 423. 

Hangingshaw, 292. 

Hapsburg (castle or house of), 438, 441. 

Happer Mysie, 329-31. 

Harden, 473. 

See Scott of. 

Hardvvicke Hall, 356. 

" Harold the Dauntless " (ch. xv.) 

121-33, 280 345, 476. 
Harrowgate, 346. 
Hartley-nick, 371. 
Hart-o-corry, 109, in. 
Hastings (battle of), 364. 
Hathaway, Anne, 173, 386. 
Hatteraick, Dirk, 155, 156. 
Hawick, 21, 23, 45, 295. 
Hawthomden, 17, 265. 
Hay of Lochloy, 212. 
'• Heart of Midlothian, The " (ch 

XXX.), 265-75, 161, 187, 264, 306, 417. 
Heath, C, 464. 
Heber, R., 477. 
Hebrides, Scott's visits to, 77 & 102, 104, 

227. 
Helmsdale, 214. 

Hellvellyn, 87, 95, 138, 390, 470. 
Helyer of Swartaster, 218. 
Henderland Tower, 288. 
Henry I., 407. 

n., 356, 358, 407- 

VIL, 393- 

VIII., 24, 40, 48, 127, 345, 414. 

Prince, 414. 

Hereward (" Count Robert "), 456-8 

Heriot, George, 411, 412. 

Hermitage Castle, 160. 

Harries, Lord, 148. 

Highlands, Scott's first excursion to, 16 , 

recollections of, 139. 
of Perthshire, 19, 53 ; Scott's 

visit (1809), 53, 77, 141. 
" Highland Widow., The.,^'' 461-2, 471 
High Seat, 95. 

Hillslop (Glendearg), 324, des. 325. 
History, Compendium, 435. 
Hoddam Castle, 148, 
Hogg, James, 190 ; statue of, 192 and 288. 

193, 281, 289, 290, 291. 
Holdenough, Rev. N. ("Woodstock "), 406, 
Holland, Lord, on " Old Mortality," 477. 
Holmes, Dr., qu. 11, qu. 434 
Holy Island, 38-41, 51, 231, 344. 

Land, 359. 360, 383^ 452-4- 

Holyrood. See Edinburgh. 
Home, Lords of, 336. 
Hone, Wm., qu. 405. 
Horicon lake (N. Y.), e,t^. 
Horton (Inglewood), 165, 344. 



500 



INDEX. 



Hfttel de Cluny (Paris), 425. 
Houna Inn, 215. 

" House of Aspen,'''' 18, 446, 467. 
Howitt, Wm.. qu. 260, 278, 306 ; on Sher- 
wood, 356-58. 
Hoy (island), 224-6. 
Hughes, Thos., 392. 
Hume, D., 268. 
Huntley Bum, 302. 



I. 



India, 464. 

" In Memoriam," 162. 

Innerleithen, 77, 141, 201, 276-7, 279, 280, 

285, 291, 293. 
Innerwick, 335. 

Inns, old English, 390. Do. London, 415. 
Introduction (chs. i., ii.), 9-13- 
to " Marmion," qu. 191, 278, 

qu. 287. 
Invasion (French), 232. 
Inverary, 208 ; Castle, ties'. 210-11. 
Invergarry Castle, 143. 
Inverlochy, 211-12, 213. 
Inverness, 213, 214, 227. 
Inversnaid, 184, 186, 208. 
lona, 10, 104, 107, 113, 114, des. 115-16. 
Ipswich, 390. 
Ireland, 376. 
Irish character, by Scott, 475. 

coast, Scott on the, 102. 

Irthing, river, 172-3. 

Irving, W., qti., on voyage, 11, 12 ; on 

Border Scenery, 286, 296; on Melrose, 

297; on Abbotsford, 311; at Stratford, 

385 ; on Scott's works, 487. 
Isaac the Jew, 349-53- 
Isle of Man, 137 ; in " Peveril," 371-5. 
"Ivanhoe" (ch. xxxviii.), 347-62, 333, 

346, 388. 



J. 



Jacques de Lalain, 455. 

Jaffa, 452, 454, 456. 

James ll. (Scotland), 20, 71. 

IV., Do., 45-50> 337- 

v.. Do., 54-75. 243, 288. 

VI., Do., 235, 243, 249, 337. 

I. (England), 411, 412-13, 414. 

II.. Do., 193. 

" Jamie Tei/er,'" 295. 

Jarlshof, 216. 

Jarvie, Baillie, 164, 178-85. 

Jedburgh, 321, 323. 

Jeddart, justice, 321. 

Jeffrey, Lord, qit. 262, qu. 347, qu. 388, 

392 ; plot of" Nigel," 411-13, 466. 
Jerusalem, 453. 
Jock o' Hazeldean, 474. 
John o' Groat's House, 215. 
King, 356, 357. 



John, Prince, 350, 351, 352, 361, 362. 
Johnson, Dr. S., qu. 10, qu. 113, ^ 

362, 102, 1131215, 415, 416. 
Jones, Inigo, 417. 
Jonson, Ben, 411, 415. 
Jorvaulx Abbey, 348, 362. 
Justinian, 459. 



K. 

Kaeside, 302. 

" Katherine Janfarie," 282 

Katie Glover (" fair Maid "), 236-44. 

Keepsake, The, 464, 467. 

Keirie Craigs, 251. 

Keith, Mrs. M., 464. 

Kelpie's flow, 340. 

Kelso, Scott at, 16, 321. 

Abbey, 321-2, 323. 

Kemp, J. M., 262. 

'■ Kenilworth " (ch. xli ), 385-403, 417. 

Kenilworth Castle, 353, 386, 394, des. 395 

400, 410. 

town, des. 397, 403. 

Kenmore, 203. 

Kennaquhair, 247, 296, 323, 326, 327, 329- 

31- 
Kenneth, Sir, 452-3. 
Kerrs, 22. 
Kessop Mill, 465. 
Keswick, 86, 87, 94, 137, 138. 
" Key of Germany," 444. 
Kidron, The, 453. 
Kilchurn Castle, 20S, 211, 461. 
Killiecrankie, 227. 
Killin, 203. 
Kinfauns Castle, 238. 
King, E., qu. 368. 
" King of the Peake," 368. 
Kinnoul Hill, 234, 239. 
Kinross, 245, 250, 252, 253. 
" Kippletringan," 151, 153, 155, 158. 
Kircudbright, 151, 153, 157, 159. 
Kirkwall, 220, 221-3. 

Cathedral, des. 221-3. 

Kit-Kat Club, 415. 
Knaresborough, 346. 
Knocktarlitie, 273-4. 
Knowsley Park, 370. 
Knox, J., 71, 235. 
Kyloe Hills, 39. 



L. 



" Lady in the Sacque." 465. 

"Lady of the Lake" (ch. vii,). 53-7S1 
87, 134, 139, 180, 202, 203, 206, 278, 470. 

Scott visits scen- 
ery of. 53, 77- 

La Ferette, 443. 

Laidlaw, Wm., 333. 

" Laird's Jock, The," 465. 

" Lake District," 87, 94, 137, 470. 



INDEX. 



501 



Lake of the Four Cantons, 432, 434, 438. 
Lambourne, M., 390, 391. 
" Lament of the Border Widow," 28S. 
Lanark, 174, 187, 194, 197, 200. 
Lancaster, 137. 

Laneham, Robt., 395^ ?«• 39^, ^^-400. 
Langholme, 45, i6o. 
Langshaw, 325. 

Langside (battle-field), 153, 195, 253, 254. 
Langton Arbor, 357. 
Lannereost Priory, des. 170-1. 
Lanrick Mead, 55. 
Lardner's Cyclopaedia, 435. 
La Riviere, 450. 

Lasswade, 17, des- 18, 77, 265, 278. 
Lathoni House, 370. 
Lauder, Sir T. D., 262. 
Lauderdale, 312. 
Lausanne, 433 
Lawrence, Sir T., 419. 
" Lay of the Last Minstrel" (ch. v.), 

19-34, 18, 35, 40, 87, 133, 167, 278, 282, 

292, 293, 294, 295, 296-7, 473. 
Leamington, 385-6, 403. 
Ledeard, 144, 183, 184. 
Lee, Alice, 404. 406, 408-9. 
Lee-penny, 454-5. 
Lee, Sir Henry, 406, 409. 
"Legend of Montrose" (ch. xxiv.), 

202-13, S4i 333- 
Leicester, Countess of, 387, 395. 
Earl of, 387-9? 395> 397, 398, 

401-2. 
Leitch, Dr., 288. 
Leith, I02, 282. 
Leland, gu. So 
Lely, Sir P., 21, 309. 
Leni. See Pass. 
Lennel's Convent, 50. 
Lenox's Love, 198. 
Lerwick, Scott at, 215, 216, 472. 
'■ Les Huguenots," 422. 
" Lesly"s Ivlarch," 293. 
" Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft," 

4S0. 
Leven Water, 185. 
Leyden, Dr., ^?<. 290. 
Libberton, 275. 

Lidcote Hall (" Kenilworth "), 391, 393. 
Liddesdale, Scott's raids, 1792-9, 16 ; des. 

160, 215, 465. 
Liege, 428-432, des. 428-30. 

Bishop of, murdered, 430-1. 

Lincoln (cathedral), 355, 356, 490. 

Lindisfarne Abbey, 39-41, 52. 

Lindores, Abbey of, 468. 

Linklater, linn of, 19S. 

Linlithgow, 144, 233, 265, 305. 

Linton sta., 283, 333. 

Lismore, 104, 209. 

Litchfield Cathedral, 52. 

Little Ross, 154. 

Liverpool, 137, 370, 386. 

Llangollen, town and vale, 37S, 379, 381, 

385. 
Lech Achray, 55, 56, 63, 64, 71, 72, des. 482. 



Loch Alsh, 108. 

Ard, 54, 164, 181-3, 184. 

Awe, 208, 209, 211, 461. 

Beauly, 214. 

Caulshields, 302, 310, 473. 

Coruisk, 109-10, 113. 

Earn, 207, 208; do. head, 203, 207. 

Etive, 209, 461. 

Fyne, 116, 210. 

Gare, 1S7, 273, 275. 

Katrine, 53, 54, 56-65, 71, 73, 184, 

208. 

Leven, 233, 247-8, 253. 

Castle, 245, 248-52. 

Linnhe, 104, 208. 

Lomond, 184, des. 185, 186, 



208. 



187, 



Lowes, of the, 192-3, 285, 287. 

Lubnaig, 64, 206. 

Oich, 143. 

Ranza, 116. 

St. Mary's, 192-3, 194, 285, 286 ; 

Scott's description of, 287, 293. 

Scavaigh, 108, 109. 

Slapin, 108. 

Sunart, 107. 

Tarbet, 116. 

Tay, 203. 

Vennachar, 53, 54, 64, 67. 

Lochar Moss, 155. 

Loches, 426-7. 

Lochinvar, 45, 160, 282. 

Lochow (cry), 211. 

Lockhart, J. G , quoted : Scott's raids., 16, 
effect of "'The Lay," 34, 53 ; on " Roke- 
by?" 78-9 ; Scott (1S14), 102 ; Redgauntlet, 
14S ; Scott's last exn.. 201 ; on 39 Castle 
Street, 260-1 ; '' St. Ronan's," 277 ; 
Ashiestiel, 278 ; Abbotsford, 301-3 ; 
" Ivanhoe," 347 ; " Kenilworth," 387-8 ; 
on Scott's "failure," 404; "Nigel," 
411; on Scott in London, society, &c., 
418-20; " Durward," 421; "Count 
Robert," 455-6; " Hah don Hill," &c., 
467-8; " Auchindrane," 469; Scott in 
1816, 476-7 ; Scott's efforts for his credit- 
ors, 4S0 ; Scott's last tour, 480-1 ; Scott's 
death, 481 ; burial, 481-2 ; Scott's last 
words, 484 ; Scott's religion, 484-5 ; mo- 
tives of his life and works, 485 ; our debt 
to Scott, 485 ; his polities, 485 ; social 
relations, 485 ; Scott's chief ambition, 
486 ; likens Scott's character to architect- 
ural fabrics of other ages, 490. 

his grave, 321. 

Mrs., 418. 

of Lee, 454. 

Locksley. See Robin Hood. 

Logan (braes of Yarrow), 292. 

Sir R., 337. 

Loire, the, 423, 424. 

London, 273-4, 37S» 403) 4i'f A^l' Scott 
first at, 15 and 419 ; in 1799, 18 and 419 ; 
in 1815, 120; in 1831, 480; last at, 481; 
from 1803 to 1832, 418-20; at Abbey, 
Tower, &c., iS and 419. 



50- 



INDEX, 



London, Scott's, 410, 417-20. 

Alsatia, 412, 4t4, 417, 418. Black- 
friars' Bridge, 414. Carlton House, 418. 
Cheapside (No. go), 411. Fleet St., 415- 
17, 420. Greenwich, 412. Great Fire. 416. 
Inns (old), 415. "' Ivanhoe " at, 421. 
Lanes : Chancery, 415 ; Fetter, 416 ; 
Shire, 415; Shoe, 416. Mitre Court, 
416. Newgate, 376 Northumberland 
House, 376, 417. Strand, The, 360. 
Tabard Inn, 390. Temple, The, 416. 
Do. Bar, 360, 414, 415, 417. Do. Church, 
360, 416. The Savoy, 376, 417. The 
Tower, 353, 376, 399, 417, 426. West- 
minster, 376, 418. Do. Abbey, 115, 210, 
242, 273, 376, 418. Whitefriars, 412, 414. 
Whitehall, 375, 417. York House, 376, 

London Associations with " Heart of Mid- 
Lothian," 273; do. "Peveril," 375-6; 
do. *' Kenilworth," 394; " Nigel,"' 412- 
14, 417-18. 

See Westminster. 

Shakspeare's, 410. 

" Lord of the Isles " (ch. xiii.), 103-1 ig, 
70, loi, 102, 134, 187, 202, 209, 469. 

" Lord Ronald's Coronach," 470. 

Louis XL, 421-29, 444, 44g. 

Lovelace, Sir R., 416. 

Love's Ladder (Woodstock), 408. 

Lucerne, 432, 435, 436. 

Lyle, Annot, 213. 

Lyons, 44g. 

Lyulph's Tower, 88, 137. 



M. 

" Macbeth," 214. 

Mac Culloch, Dr., ^7e. 208. 

Macdonalds (" Yarrow Vale''), 292. 

(clan), 104, 470, 471. 

Macdonnels, 143. 

" Mac Duff''s Cross,^- 245, 468. 

Mac Ivor, Fergus, 143. 

Flora, 143, 144 ; song, 186 and 

472. 
Mac Gregor's gathering, 186, 471. 
Maclarens, 53. 

Mackie, C, g'u. 153, 243, 244. 
Mac Tavish, Elspat and Hamish, 462. 
McKinlay, John, 161. 
Madge Wildfire, 161, 271-2, 273. 
Maida, 261, 263, 305 
Maitland Club, 308. 

Man, Isle of, 370, 371, 372, 374, 375, 376. 
Manners' family, 367, 36g. 
Mansfield, 355, 356, 363. 

Miller of (ballad), (7«. 358. 

Marck, W. de la, 422, 430, 432. 
Margaret (" The Lay"), 22-30. 
Marguerite de Valois, 422. 
Marlborough, Duke of, 409-10. 
Marmora, Sea of, 459. 
" Marmion " (ch. vi.)i 34-53, 87, 119, 133, 



134, 188, tgr, 264, 268. 275, 278, 287, (7K. 

314. 332. 344. 46*^- 
Marseilles, 450, 452. 
Martindale Castle, 366, 367, 369, 375. 
Mary Queen of Scots, 152, 153, 195, 243 ; 

in "The Abbot," 247-54, and 387, 264; 

portrait, 309, 350. 
'' Mary Scott," 289, 290, 295. 
Mary's Knowe, 253 
Matilda (Rokehy), 82-6. 
Matlock Bath. 363. 
Mause Headrij^, 263. 
Maybole, 46g. 

" Maximae Gentis Incunabula," 355. 
Meg Dods (St. Ronan's), 263, 276. 

Merrilies, 162, 163, 263. 

Megget, The, 288. 

Meikle Ferry, 214. 

Melchthal, 438, 

Melrose Abbey, 23, des. 24-5, 32-3, 171 ; 

in " The Abbot," 247 ; 262, 2g4, 296-8 ; 

by moonlight, 2g7. 

battle, 302. 

town, 35. 203, 27s, 28s, 2g4, 2g6-8, 

301, 312, 315, 316, 318, 319, 321, 322, 323, 

33O' 332,481- 
Mellet (Peveril), 364. 
" Memorie of the Somervilks,''^ edited, 

102. 
Mendelssohn, F., "Die Hebriden," 114. 
Menteith (country), 64 ; do. lake, 204. 

Earl of, 206-7, ^'3- 

Mertoun, M. (" The Pirate ") 216. 

Mervyn's Tower (Kenilworth), 395, 399. 

" Mess John," 289. 

Metehll, 124-31. 

Meyerbeer, 422. 

Mezeray, 201. 

Middleham Castle, 362. 

Middlemas, 463. 

Midlafid Border (ch. xxxiii.), 285-95 

Millfield, 51. 

Milnwood, 194, 196. 

Milton, J-, 306, 490. 

Lockhart, 201. 

'''■Minstrelsy 0/ the Scottish Border,'''^ 
origin of, 17, 18, ig ; Lord Traquair, 281- 
282, 291, 472. 

Minto Crags, 23. 

Missal, Roman, qu. 483. 

Modan, St., 317, 318. 

Moffat, 149, 188, igo, 194, 282. 

Moffatdale, 190-2. 

Monastery. See The. 

Moncreifif Hill, 234. 

Moness (falls), 203. 

Moniplies, Richie, 411-14. 

Monkbarns, 228-30. 

" Monks of Bangor's March," 474. 

Monkwearmouth, 122. 

" Montfau(;on," 303, 308. 

" Monthly Review," qu. 76. 

Montrose, Marquis of, 207, 212, 293, 471. 

Morgarten, 441. 

Morrison, Mr., qu. 240. 

Morritt, J. B. S., 77, qti; 79. 



INDEX. 



503 



Mortham Castle, 81, 82. 
jMoi-ven Hills, 215. 
Morvern, 104, 209. 
Morville, H- de, 317. 
Motley, J. L., 121. 
Moultrassie, 367, 375- 
Mount Benger, 291. 

Edgecombe, Earls of, 393. 

Mousa (island), 216 ; do. Castle, des. 219- 

20 
Mowbray, Clara ("St. Ronan's"), 277. 
Muck (island), 108. 
Mucklestane Moor, 280. 
Mull, 104, 113; Sound of, 104, 107, 209 
" Mump's Ha'," 174. 
Munich (glass), 176. 
Mure of Auchindrane, 469. 
Murray, J , " Belgium," qu. 429. 

— " France," qu- 423-41 43 '■ 

— on " Old Mortality," 477. 

INIurray, Regent, 197, 247, 253, 264, 329. 
'■'My Aunt Margaret's Mirror,'''' 264, 

464 5- 



N. 



Nancy, 450. 
Napier, J., 337. 
Naples, 200, 465, 4S0. 
Napoleon I., 75. 454, 467. 

Life of, 480. 

Naworth Castle, des. 166-9, i70' 

Neckham, qu- 235- 

Neidpath Castle (and " Maid of"), 473. 

Nethan, river, 195.^ 

Netherby, 45, 160. 

Newark Castle, 19, des. 20, 22, 29, 31, 35, 

292, 293. 

(Eng ), 275. 

Newby Bridge, 137. 

Newburgh, 242, 468. 

Newcastle, 345. 

Newmilns, 196. 

Newstead Abbey, 356. 

Newton, Sir I., 306, 416. 

Nichols, J., qu. 281. 

Niddrie Castle, 253, 265. 

Nisbet, Sir J. (Ashton), 334. 

"Nora's Vow,'''' 471. 

Norham Castle and town, des. 35-6, 37, 51, 

140, 344. 
Normans (m 1194), 347-8. 
" Norman Horse Shoe, The," 474. 
Noma ('• Pirate"), 216-24, 472. 
North Berwick. See Berwick. 
" Northmaven, Farewell to," 472. 
Northumberland, Scott's early visits to, 

16; coast of, 37-8, 39; in "Rob Roy," 

165, 344- 
Norton, C. E., qu. 202. 
Nottingham, 356. 
Novels (Waverley), mode of sketching in 

this book, 140. 
Nuremberg. 40. 



o. 



Oakwood, 294. 

Oban, 103, 113, 208, 209, 211, 461, 471. 

Ochil Hills, 70, 234. 

Ochiltree, Edie, 228, 233. 

Oldbuck, Jon., 228-30, 233. 

' " Gabions of," 308. 

Old England, 11. 

"Old Mortality" (ch. xxii.), 188-99, 

149, 161, 174, 187, 263, 477. 

his grave, 151, 189. 

Orkney, Scott at, 102, and 226-7, 202, 215, 

220, 221-26. 
Osbaldistone Hall, 164, 165, 166, 175, 185-6, 

344. 

Rashleigh, 164, 170, 178, iSo. 

" Outlaw Murray," 292. 
Oxford, 389, 390, 403, 410. 
John, Duke of, 447-8, 451. 



P. 



" Palace of the Peak," 363. 

Paris, Scott at (1815), 120. "Durward" 

at, 421, 42s, 431, 449- 
Park, Mungo. 21, 293. 

A. (Dinmont), 162. 

Parliament oak, 357 

Parnassus, rich to Scott, 306, 478. 

Pass of Leni, 54, 64, 203, des. 206. 

Patterdale, 137. 

Paterson, J., qti. 160. 

Patterson, Robt. ('• Old Mortality"), 188-9. 

" Paul's Letters to his Kinsfolk,^'' 476. 

Paul's Wharf, 414 

Peak cavern, 364. 

Peebles (shire or town), 141, 265, 473. 

Peel (Man), castle, &c., 374. 

" Peeping Tom," 386. 

Peffer Mill, 275. 

Pennant, T.,qu, 168, 210, 230. 

Pennecuik, Dr., qu. 281. 

Penrith, 89, 91, 94, 138, 145. 

Pentland Firth, 215. 

Percy, Bishop, 345. 

Peronne, 431-2, 444. 

Perth, 227, 233, des. 234-36, 337. 

Scott at, 233-4 

Perthshire (Highlands), 141, 142, 143. 202, 

206. 
Peterborough, 127. 
Peterkin. 226. 
Petit, M., 424. 
"Peveril of the Peak" (ch. xxxix.), 

363-76, 358, 40s, 413. 417- 
Peveril Castle, 364-7. 
Philiphaugh. 21, 293. 
" Philip's War" (N. E.), 373. 
" Pibroch of Do7tald Dhu,'' 471. 
Pilatus, Mt., 436, 438, 439. 
Pinkie, 326, 333. 
Pirate. See The. 



504 



INDEX. 



Pitcairn's " Trials," 469. 
Pitt, Wm., 485. 
" PJace in the Peke," 366. 
Plantagenet, Lady Edith, 453. 
Plessis les Tours. 423-6, 427. 
Pleydell, Counsellor, 161, 162. 
Plymouth Pilgrims, their first ineeting- 
Place, 355. 

(Eng), 393. 

Poems, Retrospect of, 133-4. 

Scott's opinion of his, 134. 

Pontius Pilate, 436. 

Popish Plot, 375. 

Porteous, Capt. J , 266, 267, 275. 

Portobello, 275. 

Portsmouth, 480. 

Powys Castle, 380. 

Land, Prince of, 379-81. 

Premonstratensian Monks, 317. 

Prescott, \V. H., 121. 

Prestonpans, Scott at, 15; position, 145, 

232, 265, 333. 
' Pretender," The, 146, 147. See Prince 

Charles. 
Prince Charles Edward, 144-7, 212, 263. 
James, 284. 

John, 350, 351, 352, 361, 362. 

- -; Regent, The, 418. 

Prior, qu. 201 

"Private Letters," origin of" Nigel," 411. 

Propontis, 457. 

Prose Romances, The, 137, et seq. 

Provence, 449. 

'"''Provincial Antiquities of Scotland^'''' 

_ 309, 479- 

Puritans, 366. 



Quair Water, 285. 

'' Quarterly Review," qu. 86. 

Queen Caroline (Geo. IL), 273. 

Queen's ferry, 228. 

Park, 145. 

" QUENTIN DURWARD " (ch. xHv ), 421-32, 

439, 452- 
' Quest of Sultaun Solimaun," 475. 



R. 

Rachrin, 103. 

Radcliffe, Mrs., 390. 

Raeberry Bay and Head, des. 154, 156, 157, 

163 ; do. Castle, 154, 155. 
Raeburn (House), 277. 

Sir H., portrait of Scott, 307, 309. 

Ramsay, A., qii. 290. 

Margaret (" Nigel "), 412-13. 

Rangleburn, 28, 295. 
Ravelstone, 141, 142, 265. 
Ravenswood Castle, 333, 335, 340. 
Edgar, 333, 336, 338-4^- 



Raven.sworth, 82. 

Rayner, S., qu. 367-8. 

Rebecca the Jewess, 350-1, 358, 360-2. 

Rebellion (Stuart), 1708, 284. 

1 71 5) 164, 210, 284, 30S, 

1745. 139-40, 143. 144-6, 

149, 164, 210, 214, 2S4, 308. 

— 1770, 147, 149, 284. 

"Redgauntlet" (ch. XIX.), 148-50, 87. 

147, 148, 15J, 161. 
Red Head, 229. 
" Red Land," 445, 447. 

Pool, 3S4 

" Reiver's Wedding," 473. 

"Religious Discourses," 480. 

Rene, King, 449, 450. 

Renwick, James, 193, 286. 

" Rest, and be Thankful," 208. _ 

Retrospect of the Poems (ch. xvi.), 133-4. 

Rhine, The, 137, 432, 443-7, 449, 481. 

Rhymer, Thomas the, home, 312, qu 34^ 

473' 
Rhymer's Glen, 18. 302, 310, 311, 473. 
Richard L, 347, 351, 352, 354, 358-9, 361, 

362, 452, 453, 454. 
Richardson, S-, 417. 
Richmond Hill, 273. 

(Yorks), 82, 345. 

Riddell, S., 292. 

Rigi, view from, 439-42. 

Ripon, 345, 346. 

Rismgham, Bertram, 80-4. 

Riskenhope, 193. 

Ritchie, A., 294. 

Ritson's Collections, 358. 

Robert IIL, 238. 

Robin Hood, 352, 353, 354, 356, 357, 358. 

" Rob Roy" (ch. xxi.), 164-86, S4, 87, 188, 

344- 
177-87; his prison, 186; grave, 

187, 207; "country," 164,203. 
Robsart, Amy, 388, 391-5, 399, 400, 401-3- 

Sir J., 388. 

Hugh, 391, 393. 

Rochester, 353, 426. 

Roderick Dhu, 56, 61-74. 

Roger de Coverley, Sir, 390. 

" RoKEBY " (ch. X.), 78-S6, 134. 

Park, des. 79, 82-5 ; Hall, 85, 

345 ; Scott's visits to, 77, 78, 79 ; last 

visit, 4S0. 
Roland Graeme, 245-54, 264, 331. 
Roman life, proposed tale of, 466. 
Rome, Scott at (1832), 481. 
Romeo and Juliet, 339. 
Ronin, 113. 
'■'■ Rosabelle" 18, 31. 
Rosamond de Clifford, 407 ; her " Bower,' 

407-8. 
Rose Hill sta., 165, 174. 
Roseneath, 273. 
Roslin Castle, 17-18, 31, 265. 

Chapel, 17-18, 31, 265, 307. 

Ross (ruins), 214. 
Rossini, 434. 
Rotheiwood, 348, 340. 



INDEX. 



505 



Rothsay, Duke of, 238-44. 

knthschild, 426. 

" Roundheads," 366, 408. 

Rousseau, J. J., 433. 

Rowena, Lady, 34S-53, 358, 362. 

Rowland's " Lettittg of Humor's Blood,''^ 

&c., edited, 102. 
Rowsley, 363. 
Roy, Gen.. 228. 
Royal Society, 416. 
Rum (island), 108. 

Rushin Abbey, 372 ; do. Castle, des. 372. 
Ruskin, John, 44. 72, 268 ; on "Guy Slan- 

nering,"' 162. Estimate of Scott, 487-8. 
Russell, Lord W., 415. 
Rutland, Duke of, 367, 369. 
Rydal Mount, 137. 



s. 



Saarnen, 438. 

Saddleback, 94, 95, 138. 

Sadler's Papers, edited, 77. 

Saint (sundry). See St. 

" St Ronan's Well " (ch. xxxi.), 276-7, 

263, 473- 
Saladm, 452, 453, 455. 
Salzburg, 40. 

Sandy Knowe, 15, 19, 312. 
Sanson, J. (Dom. Sampson), 162. 
Say's Court, 334- 
Saxons (in 1194), 347-8, 349. 
Scavaigh Bay, 109 ; do. Loch, loS. 
Scawfell Pike, 13S. 
Schiller, F. 434, 442. 
'* Schonwaldt," 429. 
Scone, 242. See Stone. 
Scotch scenery, some characteristics of, 

55-6. 
Scotland, History of, 435, 480. 
Scott, Adam, 295. 

Anne, 404, 409, 478, 480, 484. 

Charles, 478. 

G. G., 354- 

(Harden), 313, 315. (Mrs.), 480. 

Lady, in London, 418-9; death (Sir 

W.-s diary), 320; grave, 320. See Car- 
penter, Miss. 

Lord W. (Buccleuch), 22. 

Mary, 289-91, 295. 

L., 291. 

Michael, 26, 294, 296. 

Sophia, 478, 484. See Lockhart, 

Mrs. 

Thos., 364. 

Scott, Walter, Sir, birthplace and early 
life (ch. iii.), 14-17. Life, 1798-1805 (ch. 
iv.), 17-19. Do , 1804-12 (ch. ix.), 34, 
77-8. Do., 1814 (ch. xii), 101-2. Do., 
181S (ch. xiv.), 120-1. Do., 1816-32 (ch. 
1.), 476-83. Do., 1824, 148. 

appointed sheriff, 18; visits tlie 

Trosachs, 53 ; " engagement " to M. C. 
S., 17, 173; northern voy. (1814), 102, 



226-7, 472 : patriotic subscriptions, 76, 
120 ; assistance from Mr. Train, 160-1 ; 
meets Kemp, 262 ; entertains three 
duchesses, 279; ''Duke of Darnick," 
301 ; at Ashiestiel, 278; at High School, 
279 ; struggle with adversity, 200, 403-4, 
434' 45 5 1 479-80, 486, 489 ; visits and 
residences in London, 41S-20. Baronetcy 
gazetted, 419. One of '' two men in the 
world " (1816), 477. Bankruptcy, 479. 
Last visit to Border, 292 ; do., London, 
420 ; last long exn. Scotland, 200-1, 476 ; 
death, 310, 481; burial, 319, 481-3; 
grave, 319-20, 483 ; last words, 484. 
Scott's bust (Chantrey), 419; statue 
(Ritchie), 294; do. (Steell), 263; por- 
traits, 307, 309, 419; profile (Hoy), 225. 
Monument, at Edinburgh, 255-6, 261-3, 
476; do. Glasgow, 187, 476; do. Perth, 
235, 476 ; do. Selkirk, 31, 294, 476. 

Edinburgh (ch. xxix.), 255-65. 

Glasgow, 164, 1S7. London, 417-20. 

character : shown in " Woodstock." 

404-5 ; in mottoes, 475 ; (ch. 1.) general 
estimate, 483-90 ; a " representative of 
the mind of his age in literature," 487-S ; 
in the profession of the law, 489. 

composition : mode of, 79 ; ease of, 

103, 162, 468 ; dramatic, 466-7 ; describes 
by color, 44, composing from books, 
188 ; last attempts at, 465-6 ; where most 
enjoyed, 68. 

remarks : on changes in Scotland, 

146; view from Salisbury Cmgs, 267-S ; 
destruction of Abbeys, &c., 297; The 
Land, 296 ; " Cumnor Hall," 3S7 ; pro- 
ducing Waverley Novels by jt. stock, 
377 ; "■ writing automaton," 434; writing 
for actors, 467 ; on his success in paying 
his debts, 480-1 ; his principles in com- 
position, 484. 

Scott, his centennial, 488-9. 

second, portrait, 307 ; 

grave, 320 ; in 1816, 478 ; at his father's 
death, 481. 

" Scouring of the White Horse, The," 392. 

Scribe, E., 422. 

Sedlev, Sir C., 415. 

" Siege of Malta, The,"" 466. 

Selkirk, 19, 21, 31, 77, 262, 285, 293, 294, 
304- 

Sempach, 441, 475. 

Seven Towers, the, 460. 

Severus, wall of, 150, 171. 

Shadwell, T., 414. 

Shafton, Sir P., 32S-31. 

Shakspeare, W., 15, 133, 173, 214, 306; 
bust, 307, 358, 373; home and grave, 
385-6, 475, 490. 

Sharpe, Archbishop, 194. 

Shanter farm, 469. 

Shaws Castle, 277. 

Sheen, 388. 

Sheffield, Ladv, 389. 

" Shepherd's Tale, The," 473. 

Sherwood Forest, 354, 355, des. 356-8, 362. 



5o6 



INDEX. 



Shetland (Scott at), 102, 215, 226, 202, 215- 
20, 472. 

Shields, Castle of the Seven, 130-1. 

Shillinglaw, J., 303. 

Shortreed, Mr., qu- 17. 

Shottery, 173, 386. 

" Sir Tristrein^^'' ig. 

Skiddaw, 94, 95, 13S. 

Skye, 103, 104, 107, des. 108-13. 

Sleat, Clans, 113; Point, 108 ; Sound, 104, 
108. 

Sligachan. Glen, 109; Inn, 108, 109. 

Smailholme Tower, ig, 245, 312, 313-15, 
316, 328, 473. 

Soa, III. 

Sodor. See Peel. 

Solway Firth, 149, 150, 151. 

" Somer's Tracts,'''^ edited, 77. 

Sonderbund, 441. 

Sophia, Sta., 459. 

Southey, R., 15, 278, 466. 

Spar Cave (Skye), 108, 109. 

Spencer, Earl of, library, 410. 

"Squire of Alsatia," 414. 

St. Abb's Head, 338. St. Benigne, 449. 
St. Botholp's Abbey, 362. St. Cloud, 
474. St. Cuthbert, 122-3, 125, 132. St 
David, see David I. St. Gatien, 424. 
St. Jacques, 430. St. James (Palace) 
423. St. Lambert, 429 St. Mark, 459. 
St. Michael, 426. St. Modan, 317, 31S 
St. Ninian's, 216, 219. St. Saba, 453 
St. Sauveur, 450. Sta. Sophia, 459. St 
Werberga, 376. 

*' Stabat Mater," 168, 484. 

Staffa, 104. 113, des. 114-15, 209. 

Stair, Lord (Ashton), 334. 

Stanfield Hall, 388, 393. 

Stanleys. See Derby. 

Staunton Hall, 272-3. 

Steell, J., 263. 

" Steenie," 418. 

Steinbach, Erwin von, 448. 

Stennis, Stones of, 223-4. 

Stephen, King, 368. 

Stirling, 53, 65, 69-74, des. bg-ji, 103 
119, 144, 202. 203, 233. 

Stonehenge, 223. 

Stoneleigh Abbey, 386. 

Stone of Scone, 210, 242. 

Strasbourg, 444, 445, 447-85 449 

Stratford-on-Avon, 385-6. 

Strathaird. 109. 

Strath Gartney, 64. 

Strathpeffer, 214. 

Striding Edge, 95. 

Stromness, 224, 225, 227. 

Studley Royal, 345. 

Suabia, 445. 

Sumburgh Head, 215, 216, 217. 

Surgeon's Daughter, 463-4. 

Sweetheart Abibey, 155. 

Swift, y.. Works, edited, 102. 

Swinton, Mrs. M , 468. 

Swiss passes (compared), 55. 

lands of Scott, 137. 



Switzerland, 432, 433-42. 
Symson, Rev. A., qu. 334. 



T. 



Tain, 214. 

" Tales of a Grandfather," 480. 

— Mv Landlord," Int., 279, 

456, 477- 

THE Crusades," 377, 452. 

" Wonder," 470. 

Tamar, the, 393. 

" Tamlane," 294. 

Tantallon Castle, des. 46-50, 140, 264, 332. 

" Tapestried Chamber, T^^," 465. 

Tarbet, 208. 

Tatler, The, 415. 

Tay, river, 234, 235, 236, 239, 241-2, 337, 

46S. See Loch. 
Taymouth Castle, 142, 203. 
Tees, river, 79, 80, 83, 85. 
Teith, river, 54, 63, 203. 
Tell, William, 434, 441, 442. 
Templars, The, 359-61, 416. 
Templestowe, 359-62 
Terry, W., 466, 469, 478. 

Walter Scott, 469. 

Teviotdale, 21, 45, 295. 
Thames, the, 394, 414. 
"The Abbot " (ch. xxviii.), 245-54, 264, 

296, 315. 
" The Betrothed" (ch. xl.), 376-85,452. 
" The Gray Brother,"" 472-3. 
" The Land of Scott " (ch. xxxiv.), 296- 

322, 275, 293, 331, 482. 
"The Monastery" (ch. xxxv.), 322-32, 

245> 3IS- 
" The Pirate" (ch. xxv.), 213-28, 102. 
"The Talisman" (ch. xlvi.), 452-55, 

377, 456- 

For other titles beginning " The," see 

words that follow. 
Theodosius, 456. 
'i hirlmere, 95. 
" Thomas the Rhymer" (ballad), 18. Stt 

also Rhymer. 
Thomson, G. (Coil's.), 474. 

Rev. I , 309. 

Thoresby Park, 356. 
Thorsgill, 85. 
Thrieve Castle, 304. 
Thurso, 214, 225, 227. 
Throgmorton, Sir N., qu. ^"^7. 
"Tibby Shiels," 192, 287, 291. 
Till, the, lines on, 51. 
Tillietudlem, 195-6, 198. 
Timbs, J., q}(. 414. 
Tintoret, 162. 
Tobermory, 107. 
Toftfield, 302. 
Toledo, 75-7. 
Tongres, 429. 
Tongue, 227. 
Topiary work, 407. 



%9 



Vi 



INDEX. 



b07 



Torquilstone Castie, 352-3, 359. 

Torwood, 144. 

Tour, The, extent of, 137. 

Touraine, 422-3, 426. 

Tours, 423, des. 424. 

Train, Joseph, 160, 188, 463, 469. 

Tranent, 333. 

Traquair, 201. 

House, 141, 265, 280-81, 282. 

Trenton (N. Y.), like falls of Clyde, 174, 

194. 
Tressilian, 390-4, 400, 402. 
Trierniain Castle, 88, 171. 
Trinity Church (N. Y.), "S- 
Troil, Minna and Brenda, 216-24. 
Trosachs, the, 19, 54, des. 55-56, 65-7, 

68, 73, 203, 207, 20S, 4S2. 

Hotel, 54, 64, 68, 144, 180, 203. 

Tuck, Friar, 353, 354, 362. 

Tudors, The, 376. 

Tully-Veolan, its originals, 141-2, 146, 203, 

227, 281. 
Turmiston, 224. 
Tumagain, 302 

Turnberry Castle, 117, (ies- 118, 119, 469 
Turner, J. M. W., 162, 309. 

;— T. H., gu- 349. 

Tush'elaw, 294. 

Tweed, river, 15, i6, 35 ; lines on, 51. 77, 

201, 276, 277, 278, 279, 301, 304, 305, 307, 

309, 3£o, 312, 314, 316, 317, 321, 324, 326, 
. 327, 331. 344i 468. 481- 
' Two Drovers, The,'''' 462-3. 
Tyndrum, 208. 
Tyne, river, 122. 
Tyree, island, 108. 
Tyronensians, 230. 
Tyrrel, Frank ("St. Ronan's"), 276-7. 



u. 

Uam Var, 54. 

Uddingston sta., 197. 

Uffington Castle, 392. 

Uiiesvvater, 87, 88, 137. 

Ulva, 113. 

Union, between England and Scotland, 

344- 
Unterwalden, 438 



V. 

Vale of Hope, 365. 

Royal, 371. 

Valle Crucis Abbey, 378, 379. 

Valley of St. John, 86, 87, 89, 91, 92, 93, 

des. 94-5, 137. 
Vanbrugh, Sir J., 409. 
Varney, Sir R., 389, 391, 394, 400,401, 402. 
Vehm Gericht, 435, 443, 445-7i 45i- 467 
Venice, 40, 311 459. 
Vera, Sir A. de, 447-51 



Vera, Isabella, 280, 282-4. 

Vernon, Dorothy, 368. Her '' walk," 369. 

Diana. See Diana. 

family, 368, 369. 

Vienna, 467. 

"Vision of Don Roderick" (ch. viii.)t 

75-7- 
Vitrified forts, 214. 
Voltaire, 433. 



w. 

Wales, .137, 376, 377-8. 

Walker, Helen (Jeanie Deans), 267. 

Wallace, W., 103, 202, 289, 303 ; status 

of, 316. 
Waipole, R., qu. 415. 
Walton, Izaak, 415. 
Wantage. 392. 
Ward Hill (Hoy), 225. 
Wardour, Miss, 229-30. 
Warkworth, 344-5. 
Warrock Wood, 157. 
Warwick, 386 ; Castle, 386. 
Washington, Mt , 212. 
Watch Knowe, 191. 
" Waterloo, The Field of " (ch. xiv.), 

120-1, 475. 

subscription, 120. 

Scott at, 120. 

'" Watling Street," 82. 
Wat' of iiiarden's Den, 295. 
"Waverlev," begun, 34, 101, 102 (ch 

xviii.), 139-47, 148, 161, 174, 183, 186, 

203, 227, 264, 281, 463, 472, 477. 
Waverley Novels, 133, 138, 140, 188, 199, 

403, 474, 480. 
Wayland Smith, 392, 395, 401. 

's forge, 392. 

Wear, river, 122, 126, 345. 
Weirdlaw Hill, 473. 
Wellington, Duke of, 121, 431. 

Duchess of, 120. 

Weser, the, 446. 
Westminster Abbey 

376, 418. 
West of England, 377- 
Westphalia, 446. 
Whitehall, 375. 
White Hills (N.H.), 55, 212. 

Horse and Vale of the, 392 

Lady," 323, 326-8, 473. 

Whitby, 37, 356. 
Whittington, 159. 
Wick, 214. 215. 
Wideford Hill, 221, 224. 
Wiggin-Lane, 370. 
" Wild Boar of Ardennes," 422. 
Wildman, Col., 356. 
William I., 122, 349, 364 

III., 414- 



5, 210, 242, 273, 



Williams, Archdeacon, 483 
Wilson, Prof., qu, 104, qu. 
292. 



5o8 



INDEX. 



Windermere, 137, 

Windsor Castle, 408. 

Winnipiseogee, 55- 

Wintoun House, 333, 342. 

Wolfe, Gen., 3, 184. 

Wolfs Crag, 275, 309, 335, des. 336-8. 

339-40, 341, 343. 
Wolsey, Cardinal, 48, 414. 
*• Woodstock " (ch. xlii.), 403-410, 389, 

479- 

park, &c., 406-7, 409. 

town, 403, 406, 407. 

Worcester, 406, 408. 

Wordsworth, Wm., 95, 137, 185. 187, 278, 

gti. 285, gu. 286, gt(. 287, 291. The Yarrow, 

292 and 487. Lincoln Cathedi-al, 355. 
Worksop, 355. 
Wrath, cape, 227. 



Wycliffe, Oswald, 80-3. 
Wye, river, 368. 
Wynkyn de Worde, 415. 



Yair, 201. 

Yarrow dale, 19, 31, 285-94, 474« 

Dowie Dens of, 291. 

Kirk, 291. 

York, 275, 346, 362. 



z. 



Zschokke, 444. 



Places, objects, and associations mentioned in descriptions of the views from Arthur's 
Seat (256-9), Ben Ledi (204-5), Eildon Hill (298-301), and the Rigi (439-42), have no 
separate references in the Index. 

The writer, while travelling, has obtained valuable assistance from several guide-books, 
and has pleasure in mentioning those of Anderson, Black, Rhind, and Wilson (Nelson's) 
for Scotland ; of Black and Murray for England ; of Bradshaw and Murray for the 
Continent ; and of Baedeker and Ball for Switzerland, — references to all of which hav» 
been made in this volume. 



Cambridge: Printed by John Wilson and Sou. 



DEC 5 ; 1899 



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